BY 

LUCY    C.    LILLIE 

AUTHOR  OF  "MILDRED'S  BARGAIN  AND  OTHER  STORIES" 


3Utt0trateir 


•      NEW  YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 


HARPER'S  YOUNG   PEOPLE   SERIES. 

Illustrated.    Square  IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00  per  volume. 

CAPTAIN  POLLY.'    By  SOPHIE  SWETT. 

UNCLE  PETER'S  TRUST  ;  or,  Following  the  Drums.    By  GEORGE  B.  PERRY. 

DORYMATES.    A  Tale  of  the  Fishing  Banks.     By  KIRK  MUNROB. 

CHRYSTAL,  JACK,  &  CO.,  AND  DELTA  BIXBY.    Two  Stories.    By  KIRK  MUNROK. 

DERRICK  STERLING.    By  KIRK  MUNROE. 

THE  FLAMINGO  FEATHER.    By  KIRK  MUNBOB. 

WAKULLA  :  A  Story  of  Adventure  in  Florida.    By  KIRK  MUNROE. 

STRANGE  STORIES  FROM  HISTORY.    By  GEORGE  CABY  EGGLKSTON. 

THE  ICE  QUEEN.     By  ERNEST  INGERSOLL. 

PRINCE  LAZYBONES,  AND  OTHER  STORIES.    By  Mrs.  W.  J.  HAYS. 

WHO  WAS  PAUL  GRAYSON  ?    By  JOHN  HABBERTON,  Author  of  "  Helen's  Babies." 

TWO  ARROWS.    A  Story  of  Red  and  White,     liy  W.  O.  STODDABD. 

THE  TALKING  LEAVES.    An  Indian  Story.    By  W.  O.  STODDARD. 

INTO  UNKNOWN  SEAS;  or,  The  Cruise  of  Two  Sailor-Boys.    By  DAVID  KEH. 

THE  LOST  CITY  ;  or,  The  Boy  Explorers  in  Central  Asia.    By  DAVID  KEB. 

THE  FOUR  MACNICOLS.    By  WILLIAM  BLACK. 

THE  HOUSEHOLD  OF  GLEN  HOLLY.    By  LUCY  C.  LILLIE. 

JO'S  OPPORTUNITY.    By  LUCY  C.  LILLIE. 

ROLF  HOUSE.    By  LUCY  C.  LILLIK. 

MUSIC  AND  MUSICIANS.     By  LUCY  C.  LILLIE. 

NAN.     By  LUCY  C.  LILLIE. 

MILDRED'S  BARGAIN,  AND  OTHER  STORIES.     Hy  LUCY  C.  LlLLIB. 

THE  COLONEL'S  MONEY.     By  LUCY  C.  I.ILI.IK. 

SILENT  PETE  ;  or,  The  Stowaways.    By  JAMES  OTIS. 

RAISING  THE  "PEARL."     By  JAMES  OTIS. 

LEFT  BEHIND  ;  or.  Ten  Days  a  Newsboy.    By  JAMES  OTIS. 

TIM  AND  TIP;  or,  The  Adventures  of  a  Boy  and  a  Dog.    By  JAHKS  OTIS. 

MR.  STUBBS'S  BROTHER.    A  Sequel  to  "Toby  Tyler."    By  JAMES  OTIS. 

TOBY  TYLER;    or.  Ten  Weeks  with  a  Circus.    By  JAMES  OTIS. 

A  NEW  ROBINSON  CRUSOE.    By  W.  L.  ALDEN. 

THE  MORAL  PIRATES.    By  W.  L.  ALDEX. 

THE  CUUISE  OF  THE  "  GHOST."     By  W.  L.  ALDEN. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  CANOE  CLUB.    By  W.  L.  ALDEN. 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  JIMMY  BROWN.    Edited  by  W.  L.  ALDEN. 


EB  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

Any  of  the  about  trorit  mil  be  tent  by  mail,  pottage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


Copyright,  1883,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


STACK 
ANNEX 


TO 
TT.AJSPS    FIRST 

MY  DEAR  GOD-DAUGHTER 

JENNY    FAULINE 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"IP  YOU  TELL  OP  ME  YOU  WILL  KILL  ME" Frontispiece. 

"i  AM  YOUR  SECOND  COUSIN  " To  face  p.  16 

"NAN  WAS  DRESSED  BY  MRS.  RUPERT  AND  MARIAN" "  20 

NAN  PRESENTED  TO  MISS  PHYLLIS  FOR  APPROVAL "  28 

"'WHATEVER  HAPPENS,  i  NEVER,  NEVER  COULD  FORGET 

YOU'" "  46 

PHYLLIS  TELLS  MISS  ROLF  ABOUT  THE  JOURNEY "  54 

"BERTIE,  MUCH  THE  WORSE  FOR  NUTS,  APPEARED" "  68 

"AN  ANIMATED  THOUGH  WHISPERED  CONVERSATION  WENT 

ON" "  78 

"MISS  ROLF  JUST  LET  HER  CRY" "  86 

THE  "THEATRE" "  90 

"LANCE,  FOLLOWED  BY  NAN,  CARRIED  THE  CHILD" "  106 

THE  DOCTOR  AND  LANCE  FIND  MRS.  TRAVER8 "  116 

NAN  MAKING  HER  PURCHASES "  128 

"HOW  WELL  IT  LOOKS  WITH  MISS  LAURA'S  HAIR!" "  132 

LAURA  TRYING  THE  NEW  ORNAMENTS  ON  HER  HELMET "  146 

"HER  AUNT  HELD  UP  THE  LITTLE  TINSEL  ORNAMENT"....  "  164 
"THIS  is  OUR  COMPACT  OF  ETERNAL  FRIENDSHIP — NAN'S 

AND  MINE" "  178 

NAN  FAINTS  IN  MRS.  HERIOT'S  ARMS "  184 

"NAN  CLASPED  THE  NECKLACE  ABOUT  HER  SLENDER  WHITE 

THROAT" "  200 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  IF  a  man  had  eight  quarts  of  wine  in  one  measure  and 
three  in  another — " 

Nan  announced  so  much  of  a  problem  in  her  arithmetic, 
and  then  stopped  with  a  little  groan  of  despair. 

"  Well  ?"  said  her  cousin  Marian,  turning  around  from 
the  window. 

"  Oh,  dear  /"  sighed  Nan,  "  what's  the  use  of  lessons  any 
way  ?  and  if  we  don't  go  down  town  soon,  we  won't  be 
home  for  tea."  j 

"  What  if  we're  not  ?"  said  the  third  inmate  of  the  room, 
a  boy  of  about  thirteen,  who  was  lounging  on  the  sofa. 
"  But  hurry  up,  Nan ;  there's  no  use  grumbling."  Nan 
planted  her  elbows  more  firmly  into  the  table,  clutched 
each  side  of  her  curly  head  with  a  pair  of  firm  brown  hands, 
and  returned  to  the  question  of  the  man  and  his  wine. 


io  Nan. 

Marian  watched  the  thin,  drizzling  rain  on  the  garden-beds, 
and  Philip  read  his  Kobinson  Crusoe,  regardless  of  the  dis- 
order of  shells  and  minerals  about  him.  For  the  matter  of 
that,  no  one  of  the  three  young  people  took  special  heed  of 
his  or  her  surroundings.  Marian  did  not  care ;  Philip  had 
a  boy's  feeling  that  he  could  not  help  untidiness,  and  Nan 
had,  after  two  years'  residence  there,  grown  accustomed  to 
the  dingy  shabbiness  and  vulgar  disorder  of  her  step-aunt's 
house  in  Bromfield. 

The  room  was  a  nondescript  one,  above  a  cheese  and  but- 
ter store.  It  was  half  sitting-room,  half  parlor,  and,  as  long 
as  Nan  had  known  it,  the  furniture  had  been  the  same,  ex- 
cept that  the  wear  and  tear  of  time  had  made  the  chairs 
and  table  more  rickety,  the  holes  in  the  carpet  more  danger- 
ous to  incautious  walkers,  and  the  drawers  of  the  big  side- 
board or  press  more  uncertain  in  their  way  of  moving  in 
and  out.  The  room  overlooked  the  main  street  of  Brom- 
field, and,  as  I  have  said,  was  directly  above  the  store  kept 
by  Nan's  step-aunt,  Mrs.  Rupert.  A  rather  dark  corridor 
outside  led  to  a  rickety  staircase.  Below  was  only  a  small 
room  off  the  store,  and  a  kitchen,  while  above  the  family 
were  crowded  into  three  sleeping-rooms. 

When  Nan  first  came  to  live  with  the  Ruperts,  she  was 
painfully  observant  of  the  things  about  her;  but  time  had 
made  many  of  the  disagreeables  seem  natural,  although 


Nan.  1 1 

even  now  any  one  could  read  in  the  bright,  sweet  face  of 
my  little  heroine  something  more  delicate  and  refined  than 
her  surroundings. 

Just  what  Nan  Rolf  looked  like  at  thirteen  it  is  hard  to 
tell  you.  Sitting  at  the  table  on  this  gray  rainy  day,  she 
seemed  to  be  the  only  bright  spot  in  the  room.  Marian 
was  a  head  taller  than  Nan.  She  was  a  pretty,  rosy  girl,  in 
spite  of  her  cramped  life,  and  certainly  would  develop  into  a 
handsome  woman.  But  no  one  could  have  predicted  any- 
thing so  definitely  of  little  Nan.  Her  face  was  interesting, 
but  not  pretty ;  the  features  were  irregular,  the  hazel  eyes 
were  full  of  a  certain  earnest  sweetness,  and  though  her 
mouth  was  rather  wide,  her  smile  was  bright  and  dimpling, 
and  her  teeth  white  and  even.  Perhaps  if  Nan's  hair  had 
been  in  order,  her  clothes  tidy  and  well-fitting,  if  she  should 
cross  a  room  without  awkwardness,  she  might  have  looked 
attractive  to  any  one.  As  it  was,  only  those  who  cared  to 
look  a  second  time  caught  the  real  spirit  of  the  child's  face, 
the  fearless  honesty  in  her  glance,  the  sweetness  that  made 
up  for  much  lack  of  repose  in  her  face  and  manner. 

Nan  herself  would  have  laughed  gayly  at  the  thought  of 
any  one  counting  up  her  attractions,  or  indeed  of  their 
bestowing  five  minutes'  reflection  upon  her.  Such  as  she 
was,  she  had  grown  up  more  like  a  little  wild-flower,  sharing 
what  others  around  her  had  to  offer,  coming  in  for  scold- 


1 2  Nan. 

ings  and  pettings,  the  former  predominating,  no  doubt, 
but  never  thinking  much  of  her  own  individuality.  Her 
step-aunt,  Mrs.  Rupert,  was  a  widow  with  four  children,  the 
eldest  of  whom  was  Marian ;  and,  young  as  she  was,  Nan  ap- 
preciated the  kindness  that  offered  her  a  home  when  her 
parents  died ;  for  Nan  had  never  seen  her — indeed,  had 
scarcely  heard  of  her,  for  the  tie  was  not  one  of  blood. 
Mrs.  Rupert's  mother  had  married,  a  second  time,  Nan's 
grandfather,  himself  a  widower  with  one  little  girl,  later 
Nan's  mother.  The  half-sisters  had  rarely  met,  for,  before 
Mrs.  Rolf  was  out  of  school,  her  step-sister  had  made  a  mar- 
riage far  beneath  her,  and  removed  to  Bromfield.  Mrs. 
Rolf  married,  a  few  years  later,  a  young  lawyer,  reputed  to 
be  very  well  off  in  this  world's  goods ;  but  she  knew  at  the 
time  that  he  had  quarrelled  with  his  grandfather,  from 
whom  he  had  expected  a  fortune — and  so  it  chanced  that 
little  Nan  came  into  the  world,  and  had  lived  her  thirteen 
years  in  it,  knowing  no  real  relations.  When  her  mother's 
death  left  her  a  penniless  orphan,  Mrs.  Rupert  came  for- 
ward and  took  the  child  to  her  own  home.  Mrs.  Rupert 
had  made  an  ineffectual  effort,  it  is  true,  to  reach  some  of 
Nan's  paternal  relations ;  and  even  now  the  child  was  fre- 
quently puzzled  by  hearing  her  aunt  speak  to  others  of  her 
"  having  those  belonging  to  her  as  rolled  in  money."  Who 
or  where  they  were,  Nan  often  wondered  in  a  vague,  childish 


Nan.  1 3 

way,  but  could  not  tell.  Her  mother  had  died  too  suddenly 
to  leave  her  any  directions,  and  her  father  Nan  only  re- 
membered dimly.  Keen  as  were  her  instincts  of  refinement, 
and  isolated  as  she  often  felt,  yet  little  Nan  could  look  for- 
ward to  no  future  which  should  be  brighter  than  Marian's. 
Philip  was  a  boy :  he,  Nan  liked  to  think,  could  go  out  into 
the  world  and  carve  his  own  career ;  but  for  her,  she  felt  sure 
it  could  only  be  the  butter  shop ;  the  crowded  little  rooms ; 
and  the  children  always  needing  to  be  cared  for  in  some 
fashion,  from  morning  until  night. 


14  Nan. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  THERE  !"  exclaimed  Nan,  jumping  up ;  "  that  old  thing's 
done  at  last.  Come  on,  Marian  !  come,  Philip  !" 

"  Don't  knock  everything  over,"  growled  Philip,  slowly 
getting  on  his  feet,  while  Marian  put  on  her  hat  and  jacket 
before  a  cracked  mirror  hung  between  the  windows.  Nan 
never  required  to  see  herself  when  she  dressed.  She  was 
only  a  minute  getting  into  an  old  woollen  coat,  and  fasten- 
ing a  felt  hat  down  over  her  wavy  locks,  after  which  she 
began  a  vain  search  for  her  gloves. 

"  There's  mother  calling,"  exclaimed  Marian.  "  It's  for 
you,  Nan." 

Nan  heard  the  voice  sounding  down  the  hall,  and  darted 
out,  while  Philip  uttered  another  exclamation  of  disgust. 

Nan  never  could  overcome  her  dislike  to  the  shop.  She 
could  hardly  have  told  you  why  it  was,  but  the  butter  and 
cheese  and  eggs  in  which  Mr.  Rupert  dealt  were  unpleasant 
to  her,  and,  as  she  ran  down  the  dark  hall,  it  was  with  a  little 
shiver  of  dislike  and  of  dread  lest  her  aunt  wanted  her  to 
"  mind  "  the  shop  during  her  absence.  Marian  rather  liked 


Nan.  1 5 

to  perform  this  office,  but  Nan  could  never  see  any  "  fun  " 
in  it,  and  was  always  ready  enough  to  change  places  with 
her  cousin,  on  holidays,  when  they  were  all  day  at  home. 
Before  Nan  reached  the  shop -door,  she  heard  voices  in 
pleasant  though  shrill  tones,  and,  going  in,  was  a  little 
startled  by  seeing  a  fashionably  dressed  young  lady  in  ear- 
nest conversation  with  her  aunt. 

It  was  a  scene  Nan  never  forgot;  the  twilight  of  the 
cold  spring  day  was  just  falling,  and  her  aunt's  stout  fig- 
ure, bending  above  a  cheese,  was  in  strong  contrast  to  that  of 
her  visitor,  a  tall,  slender  young  lady  in  a  rich  dress  of  dark 
silk,  with  beautiful  furs  and  long-wristed  gray  gloves.  She 
had  a  handsome,  delicate  face,  a  little  disdainful  in  expres- 
sion, but  very  refined,  and,  as  Nan  entered,  she  turned  lovely 
blue  eyes  towards  her. 

Nan  half  drew  back,  with  her  hand  still  on  the  door. 

"  Come  in,  child !"  said  her  aunt,  in  her  most  excited 
tones.  "  Don't  hang  back  that  way.  Here's  a  lady  wants 
particular  to  see  you." 

"  To  see  me  /"  Nan  gasped ;  she  had  never  in  her  life 
had  a  special  visitor  before — but  the  stranger  made  things 
easy  at  once  for  her.  She  went  up  to  little  Nan,  holding 
out  one  of  her  beautifully  gloved  hands. 

"  How  do  you  do,  my  dear?"  she  said  in  a  soft,  sweet 
voice.  "  I  am  your  second  cousin  Phyllis." 


1 6  Nan. 

"You — I — "  she  began,  and  felt  as  if  the  little  shop,' 
cheeses  and  all,  was  dancing  about  her.  Could  this  beautiful 
lady  be  one  of  those  who  were  "  rolling  in  money  ?" 

"  Yes,  dear,"  said  the  lady  again,  "  I  have  come  especially 
to  see  you."  She  turned  to  Mrs.  Kupert,  who  was  still 
standing  with  a  knife  plunged  into  the  cheese,  and  staring  as 
hard  as  Nan  could  at  the  visitor.  "  Perhaps  I  had  better 
call  again  in  the  morning — there  is  so  much  to  say ;  and  it 
is  late  now." 

"  Oh  'm !"  began  Mrs.  Rupert.  "  I'm  sure  we'd  be  glad 
enough  to  see  you  any  time — perhaps  it  might  be  well  to- 
morrow. Where  was  it  you  said  you  was  staying  ?" 

"  At  Mrs.  Grange's,"  the  lady  answered,  looking  again  at 
little  bewildered  Nan.  "My  name  is  Miss  Rolf,  and  I  live 
at  Beverley."  The  name  made  Mrs.  Rupert's  heart  jump. 
Beverley  was  the  town  in  which  Nan's  grandfather  had 
lived  and  died.  Surely  this  meant  something ;  just  what, 
Mrs.  Rupert  hardly  knew. 

"  Well,  Nan  Rolf !"  she  said,  as  soon  as  the  lady  had  de- 
parted. "There's  fortune  in  the  wind  for  you'  just  you 
wait  and  see." 

"  Oh,  aunt  Lydia  !"  exclaimed  Nan.  "  I  wonder  what  it 
can  be?"  But  Mrs.  Rupert  could  say  no  more;  she  could 
only  look  wise  and  shake  her  head,  while  Nan  darted  away 
to  give  Marian  and  Philip  her  wonderful  piece  of  news. 


"I  AM  YOUR  SECOND  COUSIN. 


Nan.  1 7 


CHAPTER  III. 

NAN'S  visitor,  Miss  Rolf,  left  the  little  shop  and  walked 
away  in  the  winter's  dusk,  up  the  main  street  and  down  one 
of  the  more  secluded  streets,  where  the  "  upper  ten "  of 
Bromfield  lived.  Bromfield  was  a  large,  dull  town,  full  of 
factories  and  smoke,  and  a  general  air  of  business  and  money- 
making.  The  houses  on  the  pretty  street  to  which  Miss 
Rolf  directed  her  steps  seemed  to  be  shut  away  from  all  the 
dust  and  noise  of  the  town,  and  Mrs.  Grange's  gateway 
was  the  finest  and  most  exclusive-looking  one  in  the  row. 
Miss  Rolf  went  in  the  gate,  past  a  pretty  lawn  dotted  with 
cedars,  to  the  side  entrance  of  a  long,  low,  stone  house,  with- 
in the  windows  of  which  lights  were  already  twinkling. 
She  had  a  curious,  amused  smile  on  her  face  as  she  went 
down  the  hall,  and  it  had  not  faded  when  she  entered  the 
parlor  fronting  the  garden  and  the  lawn. 

Three  people  were  seated  in  the  firelight — an  elderly 
lady  with  a  pale,  sweet  face,  a  tall  boy  of  fifteen,  and  a  gen- 
tleman whose  face  was  like  Miss  Rolf's  in  regularity  of 
feature,  but  much  softer  in  expression. 


1 8  Nan. 

In  the  luxurious  room  Miss  Rolf  looked  much  more  in 
her  place  than  in  Mr.  Rupert's  butter -shop,  and  if  Nan 
could  have  seen  her  "  second  cousin  Phyllis "  there,  she 
would  have  been  more  than  ever  certain  that  she  belonged 
to  those  who  had  the  money. 

Miss  Rolf  was  greeted  by  all  three  occupants  of  the  room 
at  once. 

"  Well,  Phyllis  ?"— from  the  gentleman. 

"  Did  you  see  her  ?" — this  from  the  boy. 

"  Well,  what  happened  ?" — this  from  the  lady. 

Miss  Rolf  sank  into  one  of  the  many  easy-chairs,  and, 
leaning  back,  began  to  draw  off  her  long  gloves. 

"Yes!  I  saw  her,"  she  answered,  smiling.  "  It  was  really 
very  interesting.  Quite  like  something  in  a  story.  There 
was  the  horrible  little  store,  and  Mrs.  Rupert,  a  vulgar  sort 
of  woman ;  and  then  the  little  girl  came  in — dreadfully 
untidy  and  dowdy-looking,  but  really  not  at  all  so  common 
as  I  feared;  she  has  the  hazel  eyes  every  one  admired  so 
in  her  father." 

"  And  did  you  tell  her  her  aunt  Letitia  wants  her  to  go 
to  Beverley  ?"  said  the  boy  eagerly. 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  rejoined  Miss  Rolf.  "  I  thought  I'd  do 
that  when  I  went  to-morrow,  and  I  wanted  to  see  the  child 
alone  first." 

"  Why  not  send  for  her  to  come  here  ?"  Mrs.  Grange  said 
gently. 


Nan.  1 9 

"  Not  a  bad  idea,"  said  Miss  Kolf,  sitting  upright.  "  She 
might  come  to-morrow,  instead  of  my  going  there." 

"  I  can't  help  thinking  Letitia  will  regret  it,"  said  the 
gentleman,  who  was  Miss  Rolf's  father. 

"  Why  should  she,  papa  ?"  said  the  boy  quickly.  "  Surely, 
it  is  only  fair;  her  father  was  left  out  of  Cousin  Harris's 
will,  just  for  a  mere  caprice,  and  why  should  Cousin  Letty 
have  everything  and  this  child  nothing?  I  don't  see  the 
justice  of  that." 

"  But  to  remove  her  from  a  low  condition ;  to  place  her 
among  people  she  never  knew — I  am  afraid  it  is  unwise," 
said  Mr.  Rolf,  shaking  his  head.  "  You  don't  understand  it, 
Lance ;  I  don't  expect  you  to.  Just  wait  and  see  my  words 
come  true." 

Lance,  or  Lancelot  Rolf,  laughed  brightly.  He  seemed 
quite  prepared  to  take  the  risks  on  Miss  Letitia  Rolf's  vent- 
ure. While  Miss  Rolf  wrote  her  letter  to  little  Nan,  the 
boy  watched  her  earnestly.  He  was  intensely  interested  in 
this  new-found  cousin,  and,  had  he  known  where  to  go, 
would  certainly  have  paid  a  visit  to  the  cheesemonger's 
family  himself. 

He  would  have  found  an  excited  little  party  had  he  done 
so,  for  by  eight  o'clock  Mrs.  Rupert  had  indulged  in  every 
possible  speculation  about  Nan's  future.  Mr.  Rupert,  a 
tall,  thin,  weatherbeaten  man,  had  come  in  for  tea,  and  was 


2o  Nan* 

told  of  the  visitor,  and  obliged  to  hear  all  Mrs.  Kupert's 
ideas  and  hopes  on  the  subject,  while  Nan  herself  was  the 
only  quiet  member  of  the  party.  She  sat  at  the  tea-table, 
for  once  in  her  life  very  quiet  and  repressed.  Just  what 
she  hoped  or  thought,  she  could  not  have  told  you  :  but  sud- 
denly it  seemed  to  her  as  if  something  like  her  old  life  with 
her  parents  might  be  coming  back !  Could  it  be  she  was  to 
go  away,  and  leave  Bromfield,  the  cheeses  and  butter  and 
eggs,  her  aunt's  loud  voice,  Marian's  little  airs  of  superiority, 
and  Phil's  rough  kindness,  forever  behind  her  ? 

"  Come,  Nan,  you  may  as  well  help  with  the  tea-things,  if 
you  are  going  to  see  your  rich  relations,"  said  her  aunt's 
voice  sharply,  recalling  her  to  her  duties,  and  Marian 
laughed  scornfully. 

"I  don't  suppose  we'll  know  Nan,  or  she  us,  by  to- 
morrow night,"  she  said,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

Early  the  next  morning  a  man-servant  from  Mrs.  Grange's 
brought  a  note  for  Nan,  which  she  read  in  the  little,  untidy 
parlor,  surrounded  by  all  the  family.  It  was  from  Miss 
Eolf,  requesting  Nan  to  come  as  soon  as  possible  to  Mrs. 
Grange's  house,  and  it  produced  a  new  flutter  in  the  house- 
hold. Nan  was  dressed  by  Mrs.  Eupert  and  Marian,  in 
everything  that  either  of  the  girls'  scanty  wardrobes  pos- 
sessed worth  putting  on  for  such  a  visit;  and,  had  she  but 
known  it,  a  much  simpler  toilet  would  have  been  far  more 


WAS  DRESSED  BY  MRS.  RUPERT  AND  MARIAN. 


Nan.  2 1 

appropriate  and  becoming,  for  her  purple  merino  dress  and 
Marian's  red  silk  necktie,  her  "best"  hat  with  its  green 
feathers,  and  Mrs.  Rupert's  soiled  lavender  kid  gloves,  were 
a  very  dreadful  combination ;  and  Nan,  as  she  walked  up 
Main  street,  did  not  feel  entirely  satisfied  with  the  cos- 
tume herself.  If  her  head  had  not  been  so  dazed  by  what 
the  Ruperts  already  called  her  "good-fortune,"  she  would 
have  felt  it  all  more  keenly ;  as  it  was,  she  went  into  Mrs. 
Grange's  gate-way  feeling  herself  in  a  dream,  and  won- 
dering how  and  where  she  would  wake  up. 


22 


Nan. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

was  admitted  by  a  very  grave-looking  man-servant, 
who  on  hearing  her  name  led  her  down  the  softly  carpeted 
hall,  and  Tip-stairs  to  the  door  of  a  cosy  little  sitting-room 
where  Miss  Kolf  was  waiting  for  her.  The  many  luxuries 
of  the  room-,  its  brightness  and  air  of  refinement,  made  Nan 
half-afraid  to  go  farther,  and  suddenly  she  seemed  to  feel 
the  vulgarity  of  her  own  dress ;  but  her  "  second  cousin," 
Miss  Rolf,  smiled  very  pleasantly  upon  her  from  the 
window,  and,  coming  up  to  the  little  girl,  kissed  her  affec- 
tionately. 

Miss  Rolf  in  the  morning  light,  and  in  a  long  dress  of 
pale  gray  wool,  looked  to  Nan  like  nothing  less  than  a 
princess.  She  was  apparently  about  twenty  one  or  two, 
with  a  fair  face,  soft  waves  of  blonde  hair,  and  eyes  that 
looked  to  Nan  like  stars — they  were  so  bright  and  yet  soft 
with  all  their  sparkle.  Nan  scarcely  noticed  the  imperious 
curve  of  her  new  cousin's  pretty  mouth,  or  the  disdainful 
pose  of  the  head.  She  thought  of  nothing  then  but  her 
beauty  and  grace  and  charming  manners. 


Nan.  23 

"  Well,  ray  dear,"  this  dazzling  princess  said,  "  take  off 
your  hat  and  cloak  and  sit  down  by  the  fire.  I  want  to 
have  a  talk  with  you."  Nan,  very  much  subdued  by  every- 
thing she  saw  about  her,  obeyed,  while  Miss  Rolf  seated  her- 
self in  a  low  chair  and  looked  at  her  little  cousin  critically. 

"Now,  Nan,"  she  said,  gravely,  "do  you  know  that 
your  father  would  have  been  a  very  rich  man  but  for  an 
absurd  quarrel  with  his  elder  brother?" 

"  I  knew  there  was  something,"  said  Nan,  who  was  afraid 
of  her  own  voice. 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  Miss  Rolf ,  "  when  your  grand- 
father died,  he  left  everything  to  his  elder  son  and  daughter. 
The  son,  your  uncle  Harris,  is  a  confirmed  invalid — indeed, 
he  is  not  altogether  right  in  his  mind — but  your  aunt  Le- 
titia,  your  father's  older  sister,  is  strong  and  well,  and  they 
live  together  at  Beverley.  Miss  Letitia  has  suddenly  taken 
it  into  her  head  to  hunt  you  up,  and,  as  my  father  and  I 
were  coming  here  on  a  visit,  she  asked  me  to  try  and  find 
you." 

Miss  Rolf  paused,  and  Nan,  who  sat  very  still,  her  hazel 
eyes  fixed  on  the  young  lady's  face,  nodded,  and  said  in  a 
sort  of  whisper,  "  Thank  you." 

"Your  aunt,"  continued  Phyllis,  smiling  pleasantly, 
"  told  me  that  I  was  to  invite  you,  in  her  name,  to  come  on 
a  visit  to  Beverley.  Mind,  Nan,  don't  get  it  into  your  head 


24  Nan. 

that  it  is  more  than  a  visit — unless  you  prove  so  nice  and 
pleasant  a  little  visitor  that  she  will  want  you  to  stay 
always." 

Nan's  face  broke  into  a  smile  that  made  her  really  pretty. 

"  I'll  try  and  be  pleasant,"  she  said,  brightly. 

"So  you  would  like  to  go?"  said  Miss  Phyllis,  looking 
at  her  earnestly.  "  Wouldn't  you  miss — the  Ruperts  ?" 

Nan's  face  flushed. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  looking  down,  "  I  shall  rniss  aunt — and 
Philip." 

Miss  Phyllis  said  nothing  for  a  moment.  She  had  more 
to  tell,  but  she  thought  it  as  well  not  to  say  it  now.  She 
had  taken  a  sudden  fancy  to  Nan ;  she  wanted  the  child  to 
come  to  Beverley,  and  perhaps,  if  she  told  her  all,  Nan 
would  refuse :  at  least,  looking  at  the  child's  honest,  fear- 
less eyes,  she  felt  it  more  prudent  to  say  no  more.  So  Nan 
was  told  that  she  was  to  go,  if  she  liked,  in  a  week  to  her 
grandfather's  and  her  father's  old  home. 

"  Your  aunt  thought,"  said  Miss  Phyllis,  "  that  you 
might  need  some  new  clothes.  You  see  you  will  have  to 
dress  more  at  her  house  than  here  in  Bromfield,  and  so  we 
will  take  a  week  to  get  you  ready.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as 
well  for  you  to  stay  here  to-day,  and  go  out  with  me." 

Nan's  eyes  danced !  Never  but  once  since  she  lived  in 
Bromfield  had  she  owned  an  entirely  new  dress.  Every- 


Nan.  25 

thing  she  wore  had  been  "  made  over"  from  Mrs.  Rupert's 
or  Marian's,  and  she  faintly  understood  that  new  clothes  of 
Miss  Phyllis's  buying  would  be  something  unthought-of  in 
the  Rupert  mind. 

"  I'll  leave  you  here  a  little  while,  Nan,"  said  the  young 
lady,  "  and  you  can  amuse  yourself  with  the  books  and 
papers." 

But  Nan  needed  nothing  of  the  kind.  When  the  door 
was  closed,  she  uttered  a  little  half-scream  of  delight,  and 
jumped  up,  walking  over  to  the  window,  where  she  looked 
out  at  the  dull  town  lying  smoky  and  hazy  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  which  she  felt  sure  she  was  leaving  forever! 
She  hardly  heard  Miss  Phyllis  returning,  and  felt  startled 
by  the  sound  of  her  voice  saying,  "  Nan,  are  you  ready  ?" 
And  there  was  the  beautiful  young  lady  in  her  furs  and 
broad-brimmed  hat,  with  a  purse  and  a  little  note-book  in 
her  hand,  ready  to  lead  Nan  into  the  first  scene  of  her  en- 
chantment. 


26  Nan. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NAN  thought  that  the  delight  of  this  day  never  could  be 
equalled  by  anything  life  would  bring,  even  at  Beverley. 
To  begin  with,  she  and  Miss  Phyllis  started  out  in  a  most 
luxurious  carriage,  which  rolled  them  through  the  town, 
past  the  butter-shop,  where  Mrs.  Rupert  was  standing  in  the 
door-way,  and  finally  deposited  them  at  Mr.  Lennon's  large 
store,  into  which  Nan  had  never  gone  half  so  proudly 
before. 

"  You  needn't  appear  to  recognize  any  one,  Nan,"  Miss 
Phyllis  said,  just  as  they  went  in ;  and  this  dashed  Nan's 
spirits  just  a  little,  for  Mary  Seymour,  one  of  the  girls  in 
the  millinery  room,  was  a  particular  friend  of  her  aunt's ; 
but  then  Miss  Phyllis  must  know  best,  thought  Nan,  and 
she  would  trust  to  luck  keeping  Mary  out  of  their  way. 

Everybody  was  most  obsequious  to  Miss  Rolf ;  and  when 
she  said  quietly,  "  I  want  to  see  your  handsomest  dresses, 
ready  made,  for  this  little  girl,"  Nan  could  hardly  move  to 
follow  them  up-stairs ;  and  there,  out  of  a  long  case,  dress 
after  dress  was  taken,  held  up,  tried  on,  examined,  and  criti- 


Nan.  27 

cised  by  Miss  Phyllis,  who  sat  languidly  with  her  purse  and 
her  note-book,  evidently  quite  regardless  of  expense — of 
prices  that  took  Nan's  breath  away.  It  was  well  her 
opinion  was  not  asked,  for  she  would  never  have  dared  to 
choose  what  Miss  Phyllis  did  for  her,  a  soft  seal-brown  wool 
costume,  handsomely  trimmed  with  silk,  and  with  a  jacket 
to  match.  Miss  Phyllis  quietly  desired  Nan  to  put  these 
garments  on ;  and  when  the  saleswoman  brought  her  back 
from  the  dressing-room,  her  cousin  could  not  repress  a  smile 
of  satisfaction ;  and  really,  little  Nan  did  credit  to  the  quiet, 
ladylike  costume.  Miss  Phyllis  saw  a  great  many  possibili- 
ties in  the  child's  bright  face  and  pretty,  slender  figure. 

The  hat  question  came  next — and  here  Nan's  joy  was 
somewhat  dampened  by  her  fear  that  Mary  Seymour  would 
appear  and  claim  acquaintance,  and  thereby  annoy  Miss 
Phyllis  ;  and  sure  enough,  while  she  was  trying  on  a  beau- 
tiful brown  felt  hat,  with  a  scarlet  wing  in  it,  Mary  Sey- 
mour's voice  was  heard  cheerily,  from  across  the  room. 

"Why, Nan  Eolf !"  she  was  saying,  "  is  that  you  ?" 

And  then  Nan  saw  that  her  princess  could  look  very 
differently  on  different  occasions.  She  turned  a  cold  little 
stare  upon  poor  Mary,  and  then  said,  in  a  tone  perfectly  au- 
dible to  the  shop-girl : 

"  "Who  is  that,  Annice  ?"  Now  it  was  the  first  time  Nan 
had  been  called  by  her  full  name  since  her  father  died,  and 


28  Nan. 

between  the  start  it  gave  her,  and  her  little  worry  about 
Mary  Seymour,  she  hardly  knew  what  to  say,  and  stood 
looking  guiltily  at  her  aunt's  friend,  with  a  rush  of  color 
in  her  face. 

"  It  is  Mary  Seymour,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

Miss  Phyllis  waited  a  moment,  the  cold  look  still  on  her 
face ;  then  she  took  Nan  by  the  hand,  and  went  across  the 
room  to  where  Mary  was  busy  putting  bonnet-frames  into 
a  drawer. 

"My  little  cousin  is  going  away  from  Bromfield,"  she 
said,  smiling,  but  speaking  in  the  very  chilliest  tone.  "  Per- 
haps you  had  better  say  good-bye  to  her  now.  She  is  going 
to  live  with  her  aunt  at  Beverley." 

Poor  Mary  stared  at  the  beautiful  young  lady,  and  said 
nothing  for  a  moment ;  then  she  stooped  down  and  kissed 
Nan's  little  red  cheek  heartily. 

"  Well,  good-luck  go  with  you,  Nannie  dear,"  she  said ; 
and,  half  understanding  the  impression  Miss  Kolf  wished  to 
make,  she  added,  looking  up  with  a  sad  smile :  "  I  suppose 
it  won't  do  to  expect  you  to  remember  us  any  more,  but 
Tommy'll  miss  you  dreadfully." 

"  I'll  write  him  a  letter,  Mary !"  Nan  exclaimed,  and  see- 
ing Miss  Rolf's  look  of  surprise  turn  to  something  like  dis- 
gust, she  added, "  Tommy  is  Mary's  lame  little  brother." 

Miss  Phyllis  said  nothing,  but  led  the  way  back  to  the 


NAN  PRESENTED  TO  MISS  PHYLLIS  FOR  APPROVAL. 


Nan. 


29 


hats,  and  Nan,  unable  to  restrain  herself  further,  whispered : 
"  Miss  Rolf — Cousin  Phyllis,  why  did  you  say  I  was  going 
to  live  at  Beverley,  when  it  is  only  a  visit  ?" 

Miss  Phyllis  bit  her  lip  angrily.  "  Never  mind,"  was  all 
she  answered ;  and  then  the  brown  felt  hat  was  chosen,  and 
the  purchases  went  on — gloves,  and  boots,  and  some  dainty 
under-linen,  and  various  small  belongings,  until  finally  all 
that  remained  on  Miss  Phyllis's  list  was  a  dressing-case  and 
a  trunk.  Nan  hardly  knew  which  of  the  beautiful  cases  to 
choose,  when  her  cousin  left  it  to  her ;  but  finally  a  black 
leather  one  with  silver  fastenings  was  selected,  and  Miss 
Phyllis  directed  the  shopman  to  have  Nan's  initials,  A.  B.  R., 
pat  on  it  in  little  silver  letters. 

By  this  time  Nan,  in  her  new  brown  suit,  with  her  hands 
in  three-button  kid  gloves,  had  begun  to  think  she  never, 
never  could  do  justice  to  the  day  to  Philip  and  Marian,  and 
yet  a  something  had  stolen  over  her  of  half -repugnance  to 
going  back  to  the  shop.  Already  she  dreaded  her  aunt's 
voice,  the  noisy,  greasy  tea-table,  where  only  Philip  made 
things  endurable  for  her ;  so  that  when,  as  they  left  the  last 
store,  loading  the  carriage  with  parcels,  and  Miss  Phyllis 
said,  "  I'm  going  to  keep  you  for  the  night,  Nan,"  my  little 
heroine  felt  more  than  ever  grateful  and  happy. 


30  Nan. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MRS.  GRANGE  received  Nan  very  cordially  when  she 
made  her  appearance  with  Miss  Rolf.  The  gentle  little 
lady  was  quite  a  revelation  to  Nan,  whose  ideas  of  elderly 
people  were  formed  entirely  on  the  noisy,  over -worked 
matrons  she  had  seen  at  Mrs.  Rupert's.  Nan  was  only  al- 
lowed a  few  words  with  her  hostess,  and  then  Miss  Rolf 
carried  her  off  to  the  little  sitting-room  up-stairs,  where, 
when  she  had  laid  aside  her  hat  and  jacket,  Miss  Rolf  told 
her  she  had  better  write  Mrs.  Rupert  a  note  to  explain  her 
absence. 

"  And  I  want  you  to  word  it  very  carefully,  Nan,"  said 
Phyllis,  coming  up  to  the  little  girl  with  a  very  serious  ex- 
pression. "  You  know  things  are  changed  with  you  now, 
and  you  must  begin  at  once  to  let  your  aunt  and  her  family 
understand  that  you  are  not — they  cannot  expect  you,  to 
treat  them  quite  as  equals." 

Nan  was  still  full  of  the  excitement  and  exhilaration  of 
her  good-fortune;  yet  as  Phyllis  spoke,  looking  down  gravely 
upon  her,  there  came  a  blush  of  mortification  into  the  child's 


Nan.  31 

honest  face.  A  tinge  of  the  same  color  deepened  in  Phyl- 
lis's  soft  cheeks  for  just  half  a  moment,  but  she  said  very 
decidedly : 

"  Now,  Nan,  you  are  not  going  to  be  a  foolish,  obstinate 
child,  I  hope ;  surely  you  must  know  that  I  and  your  aunt 
Letitia  understand  these  things  better  than  a  little  girl 
brought  up  among  vulgar  people  could.  Now,  there  must 
be  no  nonsense,  my  dear." 

Phyllis's  tone  was  kind,  but  something  in  it  made  Nan  see 
that  she  expected  obedience ;  and  was  she  not  in  every  way 
the  most  wonderful  and  beautiful  creature  Nan  had  ever 
seen  ?  Nan's  doubts  vanished  while  Phyllis  laid  out  note- 
paper  and  pen  and  ink  on  a  dainty  little  table  drawn  up  to 
one  of  the  windows ;  and,  when  Nan  placed  herself  there  to 
write,  her  cousin  sat  down  by  the  fire,  with  her  slippered 
toes  on  the  fender,  and  her  pretty  hands,  sparkling  with 
rings,  folded  gracefully  in  her  lap. 

"  Now,  Nan,"  she  said,  "  begin  your  letter.  Date  it, '  The 
Willows,'  that  is  the  name  of  this  place.  'March  8.  Dear 
Mrs.  Rupert.' " 

Nan  smiled  quickly. 

"  Why  —  Miss  —  Cousin  Phyllis,"  she  said,  looking  up 
from  the  paper ;  "  she  would  think  me  crazy :  she  is  Aunt 
Rebecca  you  know." 

Miss  Rolfs  delicate  eyebrows  drew  together  in  a  little 


32 


Nan. 


frown.  She  waited  a  moment,  and  then,  with  an  impatient 
sigh,  said : 

"  Very  well,  let  it  go — '  Dear  Aunt  Kebecca.' " 

Nan's  pen  scratched  on,  with  many  splutteriugs,  for  pen- 
manship was  her  weak  point,  and  had  not  been  considered 
a  very  necessary  accomplishment  in  the  Rupert  household. 
She  looked  up  presently  for  further  instructions. 

"  My  Cousin  Phyllis,"  dictated  that  young  lady,  "  has 
decided  that  I  had  better  remain  with  her  until  I  go  to 
Beverley."  ("  Oh !"  ejaculated  Nan)—"  My  aunt,  Miss  Eolf, 
has  invited  me  to  make  her  a  long  visit,  and  as,  previous  to 
my  going,  there  are  many  things  to  be  attended  to  in 
my  wardrobe,  etc.,  my  Cousin  Phyllis  thinks  it  best  to 
keep  me  with  her.  I  shall,  of  course,  see  you  all  before  I 
leave." 

Nan's  pen  finally  came  to  a  stop. 

"  That  is  all,"  said  Phyllis  placidly. 

"  Then  Pll  just  send  my  love,  I  suppose,"  said  Nan. 

After  a  little  pause,  Phyllis  said  "  Yes,"  and  Nan  went  to 
work  again.  "When  she  brought  the  letter  to  her  cousin  for 
inspection,  this  is  how  it  was  concluded  : 

"  I  hope  you  are  all  well,  and  that  you'll  tell  Mary  Sey- 
mour when  you  see  her,  I'll  go  there  before  I  leave,  and  I'll 
write  to  Tommy;  and  tell  Marian,  please,  I'll  give  her  and 
Philip  all  the  peanuts  that  are  in  my  drawer,  and  I'll  write 


Nan.  33 

them  everything  that  happens  at  Beverley.  I  hope  uncle's 
jaw  is  better.  Your  loving  niece,  Nan." 

Phyllis  Rolf  read  the  letter  with  so  quiet  an  air  that  for 
a  moment  Nan  felt  much  relieved,  feeling  sure  it  was  all 
right ;  but  the  first  words  startled  her. 

"  That  would  not  do,  my  dear,  at  all,"  Phyllis  said  coldly. 
"  You  can  not  go  to  see  this  Tommy  Seymour,  and  you  had 
better  understand  at  once  that  your  aunt  will  not  like  you 
to  write  everything  to  your  cousins  here.  Now,  Nan,  do 
you  see  what  I  mean  ?" 

Nan  began  to  see  a  little  more  clearly,  yet  her  mind  was 
not  yet  made  up :  still,  enough  of  Phyllis's  meaning  reached 
her  to  bring  two  large  tears  to  her  eyes.  They  rolled  down 
her  cheeks,  while  she  looked  silently  at  Phyllis  and  her  letter. 

"  Don't  be  silly,  my  dear,"  said  the  young  lady,  standing 
up  and  smiling  good-naturedly.  "  There,  finish  your  letter 
with  just  your  love ;  that  will  be  the  best  way." 

And  so  Nan  went  back  to  the  little  table,  brushing  away 
those  first  tears,  and  quietly  obeyed  her  cousin.  Miss  Rolf 
took  the  letter  from  her  as  soon  as  it  was  finished,  and  went 
out  of  the  room,  while  Nan  sat  still,  wondering  if  Beverley 
would  be  quite  oil  she  hoped  for. 

Enough  excitement  remained  to  make  it  easy  for  Phyllis 
to  control  her  as  she  wished,  and  that  young  lady  trusted  to 
time  and  absence  working  wonders.  While  Nan  was  sit- 


34  Nan. 

ting  absorbed  in  her  thoughts,  the  door  opened,  and  Lance 
Kolf  came  suddenly  into  the  room.  He  was  a  tall  boy, 
with  a  spare,  handsome  face,  delicate  as  Phyllis's  in  feature, 
but  olive-tinted,  and  with  more  sweetness  in  the  brown  eyes 
and  the  lines  of  the  mouth.  He  came  up  to  Kan,  holding 
out  his  hand  with  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  And  are  you  Nan  ?"  he  said,  looking  at  her  earnestly. 

"Yes,"  was  Nan's  timid  answer. 

"  "Well,"  said  the  boy  cheerfully,  "  we  are  cousins.  My 
name  is  Lancelot  Rolf.  I  hope  we'll  be  very  well  ac- 
quainted. So  you  are  going  to  Beverley  ?" 

"Yes,"  was  all  Nan  could  contrive  to  say  again.  She 
longed  to  ask  a  dozen  questions  of  the  bright,  cheerful-look- 
ing boy,  who,  although  no  older  than  Philip,  looked  so  very 
much  like  a  little  gentleman. 

"  Shall  you  like  to  go  ?"  Lance  said,  presently. 

Nan  really  felt  she  couldn't  go  on  saying  "  yes  "  to  every- 
thing, and  so  with  a  great  effort  she  said  : 

"  I  want  to  go  very  much.     Is  it — is  it  nice  there  ?" 

"  It's  a  jolly  old  house,  where  you  are  going,"  said  Lance, 
"  but  I  don't  know  whether  you'll  enjoy  it  much,  it's  so  slow, 
so  stupid.  Still,  perhaps  you're  not  accustomed  to  much 
fun."  Lance  could  hardly  imagine  the  cheesemonger's  fam- 
ily as  very  entertaining. 

"  Oh  yes !  we  have  a  great  deal  of  fun  sometimes,"  said 


Nan.  35 

Nan,  gaining  confidence.  "  In  winter  we  coast  and  skate, 
and  in  summer  there  are  always  picnics,  and  sometimes  a 
circus." 

"  But  at  home — wasn't  there  ever  any  fun  at  home  ?" 

Nan  could  not  remember  anything  which  impressed  her 
as  particularly  enjoyable  in-doors. 

"  No,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  I  don't  think  there  was.  Marian 
always  liked  to  tend  the  shop,  but  I  never  cared  so  much 
for  that.  I  didn't  like  the  smell  of  the  cheeses,  don't  you 
know." 

"  It  was  a  cheese-shop  ?"  Lance  looked  very  much  in- 
terested. 

"  Cheese  and  butter,  and  eggs  and  hams."  Nan  recited 
the  list  glibly. 

"  Well,"  said  Lancelot  very  gravely,  "  there  won't  be  any- 
thing like  that  at  Beverley ;  and  see  here,  Nan,  I'll  just  give 
you  a  friendly  hint.  I  don't  think  I'd  talk  much  about  the 
shop  before  Cousin  Letitia.  You  see,  she  might  not  like 
it — don't  be  ashamed  of  it,"  added  the  boy,  flushing  a  little ; 
"  I  don't  mean  you  to  be  mean  about  it — only  you  won't 
need  to  talk  of  it." 

Nan  felt  that  she  had  begun  to  put  her  old  life  behind 
her  when  she  was  arrayed  in  the  brown  cashmere,  and  now 
little  by  little  she  was  learning  to  feel  as  the  people  around 
her  felt :  that,  after  all,  she  would  be  expected  to  act  and 


36  Nan. 

appear  and  think  very  differently  about  everything  as  soon 
as  she  was  in  Beverley. 

"  "What  do  you  do  ?"  said  Nan,  looking  brightly  at  her 
new  acquaintance.  "  Do  you  live  at  Beverley  ?" 

Lance  nodded. 

"When  I'm  home,"  he  said.  "I  come  to  school  near 
here  at  Barnabas  Academy.  When  I'm  home  I  live  quite 
near  to  where  you're  going  to  be.  Oh,  I  do  lots  of  things ! 
boys  are  so  different  from  girls.  I'm  captain  of  our  base- 
ball club,  for  one  thing,  and  we  are  jolly  good  cricketers  too, 
I  tell  you.  At  home  I  do  all  sorts  of  things.  Phyllis  and 
I  are  great  chums:  Phyllis  is  a  regular  brick."  He  might 
have  said  more,  but  that  at  this  moment  Phyllis  reappeared. 
Nan  looked  at  her  a  little  anxiously.  She  wondered  if  she 
was  going  to  feel  offended  with  her  about  the  note ;  but 
the  young  lady  was  perfectly  cheerful,  and  even  kissed  Nan 
when  she  said,  "Now,  dear,  we  will  go  down  to  supper. 
Mrs.  Grange  is  waiting." 


Nan.  37 


CHAPTER  VII. 

spent  the  next  week  in  a  perfect  whirl.  Had  any- 
thing been  left  to  her  discretion,  or  her  power  of  decision, 
even,  I  am  afraid  the  result  would  have  worried  Miss  Phyl- 
lis Kolf  very  much ;  but  that  young  lady  took  everything 
very  calmly  into  her  own  hands,  and  Nan  soon  learned  to 
find  it  both  an  easy  and  an  agreeable  task  to  obey  her. 

Naturally,  Nan  wanted  to  go  and  see  the  Kuperts,  but 
this  visit  was  postponed  day  after  day ;  and  finally  it  was 
Mrs.  Rupert  who,  with  Marian,  broke  the  ice  and  came  up 
to  see  Nan. 

It  happened  in  this  way.  Breakfast  and  prayers  were 
over  in  Mrs.  Grange's  house.  Nan  had,  as  usual,  established 
herself  in  the  window -seat  of  the  little  sitting-room  up- 
stairs with  a  book,  and  was  wondering  what  new  excitement 
the  day  would  bring  forth,  when,  on  looking  up  from  the 
page  before  her,  she  saw  two  figures  enter  the  gate.  In  an 
instant  she  recognized  Mrs.  Rupert  and  Marian. 

Only  three  times  in  her  life  could  she  remember  having 
seen  her  aunt  so  gorgeously  attired,  so  that  she  knew  Mrs. 


38  Nan. 

Eupert  felt  this  to  be  an  important  occasion;  but,  after 
spending  even  a  week  with  Mrs.  Grange  and  Phyllis, 
how  gaudy  Mrs.  Kupert's  shawl  and  bonnet  looked  !  Nan 
involuntarily  shuddered,  and  then — whether  it  was  a  half- 
lonesome  or  half-ashamed  feeling  she  could  not  tell — she 
began  to  cry. 

Lance  was  out  in  the  hall  pulling  some  mechanical  toy 
he  had  bought  to  pieces.  Nan  dashed  out  to  him. 

"  My  aunt  and  Marian  are  here !"  she  exclaimed. 

Lance's  eyes  fairly  danced. 

"Oh,  what  fun!"  he  said.  "I'd  give  a  dollar  to  see 
Phyllis  meet  them." 

"  But,  Lance,"  said  Nan,  "  it  isn't — such  fun — "  She 
scarcely  knew  what  to  say,  and  turned  around  as  she  saw 
some  one  coming  up  the  staircase.  It  was  Phyllis.  She 
came  over  to  the  two  children,  and  said  very  gravely : 

"Nan,  I  want  you  to  come  down -stairs  and  see  your 
aunt ;  and " — Phyllis  looked  earnestly  at  the  child — "  I 
hope  you  remember  all  I  have  said?  There  must  be  no 
offer  of  intimacy." 

Nan  stood  very  still,  looking  up  into  Phyllis's  beautiful, 
haughty  face. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  nodding  her  head  gravely. 

v  See " — Phyllis  looked  carefully  at  her  dress.  "  Come 
in  here  and  put  on  something  else." 


Nan.  39 

To  Nan  dressing  had  become  a  perfect  delight,  for  never 
before  had  she  thought  of  owning  such  clothes.  She  fol- 
lowed Phyllis  into  her  room,  and  waited  while  that  young 
lady  turned  over  various  things.  In  the  course  of  the  week, 
four  new  dresses  had  come  home  for  Nan,  besides  the  brown 
cashmere,  and  from  these  Phyllis,  with  a  little  laugh,  chose 
the  brightest  and  prettiest — indeed,  the  only  silk  one  among 
them — a  soft  blue  silk,  made  simply  enough,  but  richer  than 
anything  Nan  had  ever  thought  of  as  her  own.  It  seemed 
odd  to  wear  her  best  dress  in  the  morning;  yet,  as  Nan 
followed  her  cousin  down-stairs,  she  felt  a  thrill  of  pleasure 
to  think  her  aunt  and  Marian  should  see  her  splendor. 

Mrs.  Rupert,  with  her  daughter,  was  sitting  in  the  long 
parlor.  They  had  come  determined  to  reproach  little  Nan 
with  neglect  of  them — indeed,  if  need  be,  to  say  something 
harsh  to  that  fine  -young  lady,  Miss  Rolf ;  but  the  elegance 
and  quiet  of  the  long  room,  with  its  pictures  and  books  and 
soft  hangings,  quite  overcame  them.  They  sat  very  still  on 
the  edge  of  their  chairs,  looking  at  each  other  and  at  the 
door,  and  only  raising  their  voices  to  whispers.  Marian,  if 
the  truth  were  known,  was  inclined  to  be  rather  defiant 
when  Nan  appeared,  but  Mrs.  Rupert  kept  looking  at  her 
menacingly  every  time  she  gave  her  head  a  pert  little  toss. 

"  Keep  quiet !"  she  said,  just  as  Nan  and  Miss  Rolf  ap- 
peared ;  and  then  she  looked  up,  and  on  seeing  Nan  come  up 


4O  Nan. 

the  beautiful  room  in  her  blue  silk  dress,  with  lace  in  her 
neck  and  sleeves,  and  shining  kid  boots,  and  her  hair  pret- 
tily brushed,  she  drew  a  long  breath,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Well,  by  the  powers  above,  be  that  Nan  Kolf  ?" 

Even  the  fine  house  and  the  beautiful  Miss  Phyllis  were 
forgotten.  Mrs.  Rupert  sat  still,  staring  at  her  little  step- 
niece,  and  it  was  Phyllis  who  came  to  every  one's  relief. 

"  Sit  down,  Annice,"  she  said  in  her  gentlest  tone ;  and 
then,  smiling  very  affably,  she  continued :  "  Ton  see,  Mrs. 
Rupert, I  could  not  very  well  let  Nan  go  away;  there  were 
so  many  things  to  get  for  her ;  her  life  is  going  to  be  such  a 
busy  one,  studying  and  all  that" — here  Phyllis  just  glanced 
at  Nan's  fine  dress ;  "  there  would,  I  knew,  be  no  time  to 
buy  her  things  in  Beverley." 

There  was  a  pause, and  then  Miss  Rolf  continued,  "Nan, 
take  your  cousin  up-stairs.  I  will  talk  to  Mrs.  Rupert." 

And  Nan  obeyed.  She  and  Marian  found  very  little  to 
say  to  each  other  in  the  luxurious  sitting-room  up-stairs. 
Mariain  was  still  defiant,  and  Nan  was  nervous  and  per- 
plexed ;  so  they  talked  of  very  uninteresting  things,  and 
Nan  could  hardly  put  anything  into  words.  She  asked  for 
Philip,  and  begged  that  he  might  come  and  see  her. 

"  I  don't  like  to  go  out  without  Cousin  Phyllis's  permis- 
sion," she  faltered. 

Marian  burst  out  laughing. 


Nan.  41 

"  Oh,  you're  a  fine  lady  now,  Nan !"  she  said ;  "  too 
good  for  us,  thafs  easily  seen,"  and  she  gave  Nan's  dress 
a  twitch. 

Nan  hardly  knew  what  to  say.  She  was  neither  ungrate- 
ful nor  hard-hearted,  but  she  was  bewildered  and  perplexed. 
It  was  a  relief  when  Phyllis  sent  for  her.  Even  when  Mrs. 
Rupert  and  Marian  said  good-bye,  she  did  not  know  what 
to  say,  and  so  she  said  nothing;  but  she  cried  as  she  kissed 
her  aunt,  even  though  she  saw  Phyllis  was  annoyed  by  it. 

And  no  more  was  said  of  her  going  to  visit  the  Ruperts, 
that  morning  being  the  only  good-bye  attempted. 


Nan. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

No  one  must  suppose  that  Nan  did  not  regret  leaving  her 
aunt's  family  with  so  little  ceremony.  She  really  longed  to 
spend  a  whole  day  with  them,  but,  by  the  time  she  had  been 
ten  days  at  "The  "Willows,"  she  had  learned  to  do  jnst 
what  Phyllis  told  her  was  best,  without  thinking  much  for 
herself.  Only  once  did  she  resent  her  cousin's  authority, 
and  that  was  when  she  was  told  by  Phyllis  she  ought  not 
to  talk  so  much  of  Philip  to  Lance. 

"  But  I  could  only  talk  good  of  my  Cousin  Philip,"  Nan 
said  a  little  defiantly. 

"  No  doubt,"  rejoined  Phyllis  with  perfect  good-humor ; 
"  but  Lance  can't  know  such  a  boy ;  and,  Nan,  Lance  has 
some  low  tastes  of  the  kind,  as  it  is." 

And  then  Nan  flashed  out. 

"Oh,  Cousin  Phyllis!"  she  exclaimed,  "how  dare  you! 
Philip  is  not  low — he  could  not  be !  He  is  better — far,  far 
kinder  and  smarter — and  everything — even  than  Lance,  who 
will,  I  suppose,  one  day  be  a  fine  gentleman !" 

And,  in  spite  of  Phyllis's  set,  stern  look,  Nan  dashed  out 


Nan.  43 

of  the  room  and  into  her  own  little  cosy  nest,  where  she 
stopped,  panting  for  breath.  It  was  Sunday  night.  She  was 
to  leave  the  next  day  for  Beverley,  and,  sitting  on  her  little 
bed,  she  determined,  come  what  would,  to  see  Philip  and 
bid  him  good-bye  for  herself.  But  how  could  it  be  accom- 
plished? Of  course  she  was  not  a  prisoner;  but  she  hardly 
felt  it  right  to  do  anything  she  knew  Phyllis  would  have 
peremptorily  forbidden.  Still,  her  cheeks  burned  at  the 
thought  of  what  Philip  might  say  of  her,  if  he  knew  she 
had  left  forever  with  not  one  word  to  her  old  playfellow  1 
And  then  came  the  remembrance  of  all  Philip's  kindness : 
how  many  times  he  had  saved  her  a  scolding — even  a  whip- 
ping ;  the  books  he  had  bought  her  with  his  hardly  earned 
pocket-money.  Looking  back,  all  her  few  luxuries  or  pleas- 
ures seemed  to  have  come  through  her  cousin's  goodness  and 
unselfishness;  "not  that  he  hasn't  been  horrid  and  cross 
enough  sometimes,"  thought  little  Nan,  sitting  on  the  edge 
of  her  bed,  and  allowing  her  tears  to  fall  on  her  "  second- 
best  "  dress  quite  unchecked.  "  Bjjt  he  always  was  good  to 
me, really"  and  this  decision  seemed  to  put  an  end  to  any 
idea  of  what  she  owed  to  Phyllis.  She  rose  up  very  softly, 
and  took  out  her  new  hat  and  jacket,  and  put  them  on. 
Then,  with  one  glance  at  Phyllis's  open  door,  she  rushed 
swiftly  down  the  hall,  and  the  back  staircase,  whemce  she 
knew  it  would  be  easy  to  make  her  escape.  It  was  about 


44  Nan. 

seven  o'clock.  People  were  slowly  going  on  their  way  to 
church.  Nan  thought  she  would  risk  finding  Philip  at 
home,  for  Mrs.  Rupert  never  left  the  house  and  store  entire- 
ly alone,  and  it  was  usually  Marian  whom  her  mother  decid- 
ed to  take  with  her  in  the  evening.  She  had  a  general 
idea  that  Philip,  being  a  boy,  might  get  into  mischief  if 
he  went  out  in  the  evening,  and  to  Philip  these  hours  of 
solitude  with  his  minerals  and  shells  and  books  were  most 
welcome. 

Nan  sped  along  the  well-known  streets  as  fast  as  she 
dared,  and  reached  the  butter-and-cheese  store  with  a  sense 
of  relief,  for  thus  far  all  was  right.  A  solitary  light  was 
burning  in  the  little  sitting-room,  where  she  had  sat  for  the 
last  time  only  ten  days  before ;  yet  how  long  ago  it  seemed  ! 
Nan  stood  still  a  moment  in  the  garden,  and  then,  going  up 
to  the  side-door,  slowly  turned  the  handle.  She  went  along 
the  short  corridor,  and  very  gently  opened  the  sitting-room 
door.  She  had  guessed  right.  Philip  was  alone — sitting  in 
the  usual  disorder,  with  his  elbows  on  the  table,  his  hands 
on  his  head,  absorbed  in  a  book. 

"  Philip !"  Nan  half-whispered.  The  boy  started,  looked 
at  Nan  in  a  bewildered  way,  and  then  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"  Nan  1"  he  exclaimed, "  come  in.  I  am  glad  you  came. 
Ain't  you  going  away,  after  all,  with  your  fine  relations  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes !"  Nan  answered,  just  a  little  dolefully.     "  I'm 


Nan.  45 

going — to-morrow;  and  I  came — I  ran  away,  Phil,  to  say 
good-bye  to  you.  I  guessed  you'd  be  alone." 

"  You're  a  trump,  Nan,"  said  the  boy,  delightedly.  "  Oh, 
ain't  you  going  to  write  to  me  about  everything  ?" 

Kan  looked  pained ;  but  Philip  did  not  see  her  expres- 
sion, for  he  had  begun  to  rummage  among  his  shells. 

"See  here,  Nan,"  he  said,  turning  around  before  she 
answered;  "here's  the  old  pink  shell  we  used  to  make  a 
boat  of.  There,  you  can  have  it  all  for  yourself  now — a 
remembrance,  don't  you  see  ?" 

Nan's  bright  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  She  took  the  shell, 
and  nodded  softly. 

"  Thank  you,  Philip  dear.  I'm  afraid  I  mustn't  stay — I 
must  say  good-bye  now,  or  they'll  come  after  me.  Thank 
you  so  much,  Phil;  and  remember,  whatever  happens,  I 
never,  never,  never  could  forget  you.  And  Pll  always  love 
you." 

And  honest-hearted  little  Nan  squeezed  Phil  around  the 
neck  convulsively,  and  before  another  word  was  said  had 
fled  away. 

Going  up  the  street,  she  rejoiced  that  she  had  so  success- 
fully accomplished  her  errand ;  yet  another  idea  had  come 
to  her  mind.  Probably  no  one  at  "  The  Willows  "  would 
be  any  the  wiser  for  her  little  flight ;  but  would  it  not  be 
what  Lance  would  have  called  "squarer"  to  go  herself  and 


46  Nan. 

tell  Phyllis?  Nan's  nature,  impulsive  and  full  of  faults 
though  it  might  be,  was  honest  and  true  in  every  fibre,  and 
it  did  not  take  her  long  to  come  to  a  decision  as  to  what 
was  right.  She  made  her  way  noiselessly  in  at  the  side 
entrance  without  being  discovered,  but  once  in  the  upper 
hall  she  went  boldly  to  her  cousin's  door.  Phyllis  had  not 
stirred  from  the  easy-chair  in  which  Nan  had  left  her.  The 
light  from  the  lamp  on  a  table  near  her  showed  Nan  a  very 
different  room  from  the  shabby  parlor  in  which  she  had  jnst 
said  good-bye  to  Philip ;  and,  as  the  little  girl  went  in,  she 
had  a  queer  sort  of  feeling  that  she  had  said  good-bye  to 
shabbiness  and  dirt  and  disorder  forever;  but  something 
else  was  struggling  within  her,  as  she  looked  at  Phyllis's 
fair,  beautiful,  cold  face.  "  I  haven't  said  good-bye  to  my 
conscience,  any  way,"  she  was  thinking ;  and  with  a  brave 
resolve  she  walked  up  to  her  cousin's  side. 

"Cousin  Phyllis,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  "I've  been 
down  to  Aunt  Rupert's  and  seen  Philip,  and  said  good-bye 
to  him.  I  knew  you  wouldn't  like  it — but  I'm  not — sorry 
I  did  it."  And  here  Nan's  voice  broke,  and  she  burst  into 
tears. 

For  an  instant  Phyllis  felt  very  angry.  Then,  before  she 
spoke,  the  honesty  of  the  child  touched  her.  It  touched 
her,  but  not  as  the  same  thing  would  have  touched  my  little 
Nan.  The  brilliant  young  lady  had  to  admire  the  child's 


'WHATEVER  HAPPENS,  I  NEVER,  NEVER  COULD  FORGET  YOU.'" 


Nan.  47 

fearlessness,  yet  she  also  thought  quickly  how  receiving  her 
confession  kindly  might  be  a  "good  thing"  in  the  future — 
might  strengthen  her  influence  over  the  possible  heiress  of 
all  Miss  Rolf's  fortune. 

"  Very  well,  Nan,"  she  said,  kissing  the  little  bowed 
head ;  "  we  will  agree  to  forget  it.  Now  go  away  and  get 
ready  for  prayers.  Mrs.  Grange  will  soon  be  home." 

And  Nan,  feeling  a  great  load  off  her  little  heart,  went 
into  her  own  room  and  put  away  her  shell  in  the  big  trunk 
already  full  of  her  new  possessions. 

She  was  grateful  to  Phyllis,  and,  best  of  all,  relieved  of 
what  would  certainly  have  been  a  burden  to  her  con- 
science ;  and  when  the  prayers  and  lesson  of  the  day  were 
read,  my  little  heroine  felt  that  her  last  night  in  Bromfield 
was  a  happy  one,  after  all. 


48  Nan. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

EVERYTHING  ill  Mrs.  Grange's  large,  fine  house,  the  sud- 
den change  in  her  circumstances,  the  new  clothes,  and  new 
prospects  had  kept  Kan  very  much  subdued  before  they 
started  on  their  wonderful  journey ;  but  by  the  time  they 
were  fairly  on  the  train  and  nearing  Beverley,  Miss  Phyllis 
Rolf  found  she  had  her  hands  full  in  keeping  pace  with  her 
little  charge.  To  begin  with,  Nan's  old  "  flibberty-gibberty  " 
ways,  as  Mrs.  Rupert  used  to  call  them,  had  reasserted  them- 
selves. She  had  to  have  her  hat  and  her  collar  and  her  tie 
rearranged  half  a  dozen  times,  and  even  her  face  washed 
and  her  hair  brushed  twice;  and  then  she  asked  Phyllis 
a  dozen  questions  at  a  time.  Finally  Phyllis  said  rath- 
peremptorily,  "  Nan,  if  you  will  sit  perfectly  still  for  ten 
minutes — we  shall  soon  be  in  Beverley — I'll  answer  some 
of  your  questions." 

They  had  chairs  in  the  parlor-car,  and  Nan  wheeled  hers 
around  with  a  very  bright  expression.  She  wanted  to  know 
something  more  definite  of  her  Aunt  Letitia  and  the  house 
at  Beverley.  It  seemed  too  bad  that  it  had  begun  to  rain, 


Nan.  49 

and  that  it  would  be  nearly  dark  when  they  got  there ;  but 
then  everything  couldn't  go  on  being  just  perfectly  de- 
lightful. 

"  It  is  a  large  brick  house,"  said  Phyllis.  "  There  is  a 
short  drive  up  to  the  front-door,  but  a  nice  lawn  and  gar- 
dens at  the  side ;  and,  by  the  way,  your  aunt  will  be  very 
particular  about  your  going  into  the  garden  without  her 
permission.  She  never  allows  any  one  to  pick  flowers  by 
themselves." 

"Is  she  very  cross ?"  said  Nan. 

Phyllis  laughed. 

"  Oh  no !"  she  answered.  "  But,  Nan — I  had  better  tell 
you — she  is  rather  peculiar  in  some  ways.  She  never  likes 
any  one  to  contradict  her  or  to  have  opinions  of  their  own. 
You  must  always  seem  to  think  just  as  she  does." 

"  But  suppose  I  don't"  said  honest  Nan,  opening  her 
eyes  to  a  perfect  stare. 

Phyllis  had  a  very  pretty  white  forehead — so  smooth  that 
every  little  line  showed  in  it ;  and,  though  it  was  a  very 
small  frown,  Nan  saw  one  distinctly  between  her  eyebrows. 

"  Then  you  must  try  and  think  so,"  she  answered.  "  Now 
I'll  tell  you  more  about  the  house.  There  are  a  great  many 
windows,  some  looking  on  the  gardens,  some  towards  the 
street.  The  street  just  there  is  rather  hilly ;  indeed,  '  Rolf 
House,'  as  it  is  always  called,  is  near  the  top  of  the  street. 


50  Nan. 

You  go  in  by  a  wide  door,  and  there  is  a  square  hall,  with  a 
staircase  going  up  at  the  left  side.  There  is  a  big  fireplace 
in  the  hall ;  on  one  side  is  a  room  called  the  black-walnut 
parlor,  on  the  other  a  long  drawing-room ;  and  the  library  is 
on  one  side,  and  the  dining-room  on  the  other.  Everything 
is  very  handsome." 

"  So  I'll  have  to  be  careful  of  the  things,"  said  Nan,  who 
was  perfectly  quiet,  listening. 

Phyllis  laughed. 

"  You  won't  have  to  think  much  of  that,  I  imagine,"  she 
answered.  "You  are  to  be  very  well  looked  after,  I  can 
assure  you,  Nan !" 

Nan  waited  a  minute,  and  then  said : 

"  Kept  very  strict,  do  you  mean,  Cousin  Phyllis  ?" 

"  Very,"  said  Phyllis. 

"  Well,  where  do  you  live  ?"  asked  Nan,  after  puckering 
her  face  up  into  a  dozen  wrinkles  over  this  new  idea. 

"  We  live  in  College  Street,"  said  Phyllis, "  about  half  a 
mile  from  '  Kolf  House.'  Ours  is  a  rather  shabby  house, 
though  it's  large.  Did  I  tell  you  about  my  sisters  and 
brothers?" 

Nan's  face  lighted  up  instantly  with  one  of  those  sweet 
unselfish  or  unconscious  looks  which  made  her  positively 
pretty. 

"  No  1"  she  said—"  but  do — please  do,  Cousin  Phyllis." 


Nan.  5 1 

"  Well,  there  are  six  of  them — Laiice  and  Laura,  and  the 
twins  Joan  and  Dick,  and  the  younger  boys,  Alfred  and 
Bertie." 

"  All  my  cousins?"  said  Nan,  feeling  as  if  the  world  was 
getting  to  be  a  very  big  place. 

"  Every  one,"  laughed  Phyllis. 

And  now  in  the  pale  wintry  dusk  they  began  to  see  the 
lights  of  the  town,  and  Nan's  heart  beat  very  quickly  when 
the  train  stopped,  and  she  found  herself  following  Phyllis 
out  upon  the  covered  platform,  where  she  saw  a  servant  in 
livery  come  up  respectfully,  and  stand  by  while  her  cousin 
gave  him  directions  about  the  trunks. 

Nan's  education  had  been  of  the  most  fragmentary  kind ; 
but  it  so  happened  that  she  had  read  two  or  three  novels, 
or  stories,  in  which  heroines  had  arrived  at  a  railway  sta- 
tion, to  be  met  by  fine  servants  in  livery,  and  driven  to 
fine  houses,  where  they  were  received  in  great  state.  Now, 
as  she  stood,  a  little  half  -  frightened  figure  clinging  to 
Phyllis's  side,  it  flashed  across  her  mind  that  she  was  just 
such  a  heroine,  and  it  gave  her  a  great  deal  of  sudden 
courage.  She  thought  of  the  big  brick  house  with  all  its 
splendors,  and  how  in  a  short  time  she  would  make  a  sort 
of  state  entry  there — would  there  be  a  row  of  servants  in 
the  hall,  she  wondered  ?  "Well,  something  very  especial  to 
welcome  her — Nan  felt  she  could  be  sure  of  that. 


52  Nan. 

And  then  Phyllis  said,  "  Come,  Nan  ;"  and  they  went  out 
of  the  noisy  station  in  the  dusk,  and  up  a  flight  of  steps, 
where,  just  as  Nan  expected,  a  very  grand  carriage  was 
waiting.  In  a  moment  more  they  were  whirling  away, 
through  a  pretty,  hilly  town,  where  the  shop-windows  were 
just  being  lighted,  and  where  there  was  a  long  bridge  over 
a  river,  and  a  line  of  hills  in  the  distance.  Nan  felt  sure 
she  was  really  like  one  of  her  dearest  heroines,  and  only 
regretted  her  name  was  so  short  and  unromantic. 

"I  shall  try  and  imagine  I  am  called  Florizel,"  she 
thought,  "  or  Alexandrina."  And  before  she  had  come  to 
any  decision  about  the  two  names,  the  carriage  rolled  in  a 
gateway,  beyond  which  Nan  could  see  the  large  brick  house, 
with  its  many  windows  irregularly  lighted. 


Nan.  53 


CHAPTER  X. 

quite  forgot  she  was  Florizel  in  the  bewilderment 
of  the  next  few  moments.  The  door  was  opened  widely — 
a  stream  of  light  poured  out  up  the  gravel  path,  and  in  the 
glow  she  saw  a  stately  old  lady  standing  with  an  elderly 
man-servant  at  her  side.  Then  in  a  confused  way  she  heard 
the  lady  say,  "  How  do  you  do,  Annice  ?"  and  she  felt  her- 
self being  kissed,  while  as  if  in  a  dream  she  found  herself 
following  the  old  lady  and  Phyllis  down  the  hall  and  into 
a  square,  primly  furnished  parlor.  Here  Nan's  heart  began 
to  beat  a  little  less  wildly,  and  she  took  courage  to  look 
about  her.  First,  of  course,  at  Miss  Rolf,  who  stood  talking 
to  Phyllis  in  an  undertone  about  the  journey,  and  some- 
thing about  Nan  herself.  Stately  and  severe  she  no  doubt 
looked,  yet  Nan  felt  drawn  towards  her  aunt  in  a  curious 
way  she  could  not  explain.  Her  face  must  once  have 
looked  like  Phyllis's,  Nan  thought :  there  was  the  same 
finely  chiselled  outline  of  feature,  the  straight  nose  and  the 
well-defined  eyebrows ;  but  Miss  Rolf,  for  all  her  years, 
had  something  in  her  face  which  Nan  liked  better  than 


54  Nan. 

anything  about  pretty,  blooming  Cousin  Phyllis.  Sitting 
over  by  the  tall,  old-fashioned  chimney-piece,  little  Nan 
took  note  of  the  old  lady's  exquisite  silver-gray  silk  dress, 
the  white  lace  kerchief  and  cap,  the  beautiful  white  hands, 
and  the  flash  of  opals  in  a  brooch  at  her  throat.  Where 
had  the  child  ever  seen  anything  so  queenly  and  beautiful  ? 
Miss  Kolf  did  not  guess  what  was  going  on  in  the  mind 
of  her  little  niece  that  first  ten  minutes.  Inwardly  Nan 
had  decided  she  was  quite  willing  to  submit  to  her  aunt's 
rule,  and  that  she  should  like  to  be  with  her.  The  room 
was  undoubtedly  the  black- walnut  parlor  of  which  Phyllis 
had  spoken ;  it  was  furnished  in  dark  colors,  but  everything 
was  refined  and  old-fashioned  and  comfortable.  There 
were  candles  lighted  in  tall  silver  candlesticks  on  the  chim- 
ney-piece and  on  a  side-table,  and  a  wood  fire  glowed  on 
the  hearth.  Presently  the  door  opened,  and  the  man-servant 
Nan  had  seen  came  in  with  a  large  tray,  which  he  set  down 
on  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  then  Miss  Eolf 
broke  off  her  conversation  with  Phyllis  and  turned  to  little 
Nan. 

"  I  presume  you  feel  hungry,  my  dear,"  she  said  kindly ; 
"and  you  too,  Phyllis.  I  thought  you  would  like  some- 
thing to  eat  in  here." 

Phyllis  had  thrown  herself  down  in  a  large  easy-chair 
near  the  fire.  "  How  good  of  you,  Cousin  Letty !"  she  said, 


PHYLLIS  TELLS  MISS  ROLF  ABOUT  THE  JOURNEY. 


Nan.  55 

vith  a  long-drawn  sigh.  "Everything  always  looks  so 
lomelike  and  tempting  here." 

Miss  Kolf  only  smiled  in  a  quiet  way,  and  watched  the 
servant  critically  while  he  set  out  the  dainty  little  supper, 
to  which  she  invited  the  travellers,  pouring  out  their  tea, 
and  urging  the  biscuits  and  oysters  and  other  things  upon 
Nan,  who,  hungry  as  she  was,  felt  almost  too  shy  to  eat. 

"And  now  I  must  go,"  Phyllis  said,  after  she  had 
finished  her  supper.  "  Good-bye,  little  Nan ;  I'll  see  you 
in  the  morning." 

"  No,  Phyllis  dear,"  said  Miss  Kolf,  quietly,  "  it  will  be 
as  well  not  to  come  to  see  the  child  to-morrow.  I  think  she 
will  be  better  quiet." 

Nan  said  nothing;  but  as  Cousin  Phyllis  kissed  her  good- 
bye, she  clung  to  her  fervently  —  a  wild  longing  to  run 
away  back  to  Bromfield,  even  to  the  butter -shop,  com- 
ing over  her ;  but  in  a  moment  the  door  had  closed  upon 
Phyllis's  figure.  She  was  alone  with  her  aunt,  and  a  feel- 
ing came  over  her,  for  the  first  time,  that  a  new  life  really 
had  begun. 

"  You  had  better  eat  something  more,"  Miss  Rolf  was 
saying.  "  No  ?  Well  then,  perhaps,  my  dear,  you  would  like 
to  go  to  bed.  I  will  not  keep  you  up  for  prayers  to-night. 
Generally  I  read  them  at  half-past  eight." 

Miss  Rolf  touched  a  bell,  and  when  it  was  answered  she 


56  Nan. 

said, "  Please  send  Mrs.  Heriot  here,"  and  in  a  moment  a 
pleasant-faced,  elderly  woman  appeared  who  looked  at  Nan 
in  a  very  kindly  critical  way. 

"  This  is  Miss  Annice  Rolf,  Mrs.  Heriot,"  said  the  old 
lady.  "  Will  you  take  her  up  to  her  room,  and — you  need 
not  stay  with  her  after  she  is  in  bed.  Good-night,  my 
child." 

Nan  kissed  Miss  Rolf  very  timidly,  and  went  away  with 
Mrs.  Heriot,  who  held  her  little  hand  in  a  firm  grasp  that 
was  very  comforting. 

They  passed  down  the  matted  hall  and  up  a  staircase  to 
the  left.  Above,  a  narrow  corridor  led  to  three  little  steps 
which  dipped  down  into  Nan's  room.  It  was  small  and 
comfortable — not  very  bright,  perhaps,  for  all  the  furniture 
was  old-fashioned  and  sombre ;  but  there  was  a  window  with 
a  deep  seat  in  it,  and  some  interesting-looking  pictures  on 
the  walls.  The  bed  -  curtains  were  of  chintz,  the  pattern 
of  which  was  a  series  of  pictures,  and  the  wall-paper  re- 
peated a  design  of  a  garden  and  a  terrace,  along  which  a 
lady  and  gentleman  were  walking.  Altogether  Nan  thought, 
as  Mrs.  Heriot  lighted  the  candles,  that  she  should  like  her 
new  room  and  enjoy  the  walls  and  the  window. 

She  wished  Mrs.  Heriot  would  talk  a  little  more  while 
she  helped  her  to  undress,  but,  except  for  asking  her  one 
or  two  things  about  the  journey,  she  made  no  remarks. 


Nan.  57 

When  she  had  tucked  Nan  into  bed,  she  just  nodded  at  her 
and  smiled,  and,  taking  the  candle  in  her  hand,  walked  away, 
her  footsteps  sounding  softly  until  she  was  down-stairs. 

Nan  lay  still,  half-afraid,  but  on  the  whole  comfortable. 
She  had  so  much  to  think  and  wonder  about !  To-morrow 
would  certainly  be  a  wonderful  day ;  but  why  should  her 
aunt  object  to  Phyllis's  coming  back?  Nan's  little  brain 
soon  got  all  sorts  of  things  in  a  tangle,  and  she  fell  asleep 
to  dream  that  she  was  in  Bromfield  selling  butter  to  Mrs. 
Heriot. 


58  Nan. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

"  MAY  16,— isn't  it,  Mrs.  Heriot  2" 

Nan  was  standing  in  the  window  of  the  black -walnut 
parlor,  looking  out  upon  the  wet  lawn  and  gardens,  while 
Mrs.  Heriot  was  engaged  in  putting  away  some  fine  china 
in  one  of  the  cupboards. 

"May  16,  in  all  its  particulars,  sure  enough,"  rejoined 
Mrs.  Heriot.  "  You're  here  just  two  weeks  to-day." 

Nan  gave  a  little  sigh. 

"  Well,  it  seems  longer,"  she  said,  turning  around.  "  Mrs. 
Heriot,  when  will  my  cousins  be  here,  do  you  think  ?" 

"  Oh,  in  half  an  hour,  I  should  say." 

"  Will  they  mind  the  wet?" 

Mrs.  Heriot  laughed. 

"  Not  they — I  wished  they  did ;  for  they're  only  too  likely 
to  come  tramping  up  my  floors  with  their  muddy  boots." 

"  But  aren't  they  afraid  of  Aunt  Letitia  ?"  exclaimed 
Nan,  inwardly  delighted  by  the  idea  of  cousins  who  were 
fearless. 

"  Not  one  bit — now,"  said  Mrs.  Heriot,  turning  around  to 


59 

examine  a  delicate  bit  of  porcelain  more  carefully  in  the 
light.  "You'll  have  to  keep  them  out  of  mischief  the 
whole  time.  If  Lance  were  home  he  would  see  to  them — 
though  he's  no  quiet  lamb  himself — but  Dicksie  and  Joan 
are  enough  to  bring  the  house  about  one's  ears  if  they 
were  let." 

"  Are  they  the  twins  ?" 

Mrs.  Heriot  nodded. 

Nan  returned  to  her  window,  eagerly  watching  the  bit  of 
the  street  which  just  below  the  lawn. she  could  see  quite 
plainly. 

As  Mrs.  Heriot  had  said,  she  had  been  two  weeks  at  Rolf 
House,  and  in  that  time  she  had  learned  so  much  of  its  ways 
that  she  felt  as  if  her  stay  had  been  much  longer.  The 
household  was  a  very  quiet,  orderly  one,  and  if  Miss  Rolf 
felt  that  Nan's  being  in  it  made  a  decided  difference,  at  least 
she  never  showed  it,  for,  so  far  as  Nan  could  see,  nothing 
had  been  changed  on  her  account.  True,  she  had  lessons 
every  morning  from  a  young  lady,  in  whom  Nan  could  not 
feel  much  interested,  she  was  so  prim  and  quiet,  and  appar- 
ently so  very  learned,  and  Miss  Eolf  examined  her  every 
evening.  Between  whiles,  she  spent  much  of  her  time  with 
Mrs.  Heriot,  who  was  a  sort  of  housekeeper  and  general 
factotum,  learning  to  sew  and  to  do  worsted-work;  and 
regularly  every  afternoon  she  went  for  a  walk  or  a  drive 


60  Nan. 

with  her  aunt.  These  occasions  were  Nan's  only  periods 
of  real  enjoyment,  for  they  usually  went  into  the  town 
either  to  shop  or  visit  some  poor  person,  and  once  or  twice 
Cousin  Phyllis  had  been  with  them.  At  seven  o'clock  Nan 
took  tea  with  Miss  Rolf,  after  which  they  would  sit  an 
hour  or  so  in  the  drawing-room  or  black- walnut  parlor, 
where  sometimes  Nan  read  aloud  to  her  aunt,  and  some- 
times her  aunt  talked  over  the  lessons  Miss  Prior  had  given 
her  for  the  next  day.  Miss  Rolf  was  always  kind  in  her 
manner,  but  very,  very  cold  and  reserved,  yet  to  Nan  there 
was  something  very  wonderful  about  the  beautifully  dressed, 
stately  figure  of  her  aunt.  She  longed  sometimes  to  draw 
nearer  to  her.  When  she  received  the  chilly  good-night  kiss 
which  dismissed  her  for  bed,  she  had  often  been  tempted  to 
fling  her  arms  about  her  aunt's  neck  and  hug  her  wildly ;  but 
she  was  always  glad  afterwards  to  have  restrained  such  an 
impulse,  for  what  would  Miss  Rolf  have  thought  of  her  ? 
Impetuous  little  Nan  shuddered  sometimes  to  think ! 

But  now  a  diversion  was  expected.  Her  cousins  from 
College  Street  had  all  been  invited  to  spend  the  afternoon 
and  take  tea,  and  Nan  had  been  dressed  and  waiting  for 
half  an  hour.  Miss  Rolf  was  out  for  the  day,  but  Mrs. 
Ileriot  had  received  full  instructions  as  to  what  they  could 
and  could  not  do,  and  the  old  lady  would  be  home  for  the 
usual  seven-o'clock  tea,  they  might  be  certain. 


Nan.  6 1 

"  There !"  cried  Nan,  darting  a  look  around  at  Mrs. 
Heriot — "  there  they  are !" 

"Dear,  dear!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Heriot,  coming  forward 
with  a  cup  and  the  duster  in  her  hand.  "  Yes ;  sure 
enough — there  they  are,  sure." 

What  Nan,  pressing  her  face  eagerly  against  the  window- 
pane,  beheld  was  a  curious,  rollicking  procession  of  young 
people  coming  up  the  hilly  street.  Evidently  the  twins 
first — a  tall,  lank  young  girl,  with  black  hair  and  dark  eyes, 
and  a  boy  nearly  her  counterpart  in  size  and  coloring — were 
amusing  themselves  by  jumping  over  all  the  puddles,  while 
behind  walked  or  ran  two  younger  boys  and  "a  girl  of 
fourteen,  everything  being  on  the  hop,  skip,  and  jump 
with  one  and  all ;  but  could  the  tall,  graceful  figure  in  the 
waterproof  be  Cousin  Phyllis  ?  Nan  could  scarcely  believe 
the  evidence  of  her  own  eyes :  yet  it  was  certainly  she — 
there  could  be  no  doubt  of  this ;  but  why  should  she,  of  all 
people,  allow  such  pranks  ? 

I  must  say  that  the  pranks  delighted  Nan.  She  grinned 
broadly  from  within  her  window,  and  the  tribe  of  cousins 
saw  her  and  executed  various  little  antics  before  they 
reached  the  door,  in  merry  response.  Only  the  girl  of 
about  fourteen,  walking  near  to  Phyllis,  offered  her  no  such 
salute.  Nan  decided  that  she  looked  haughty,  and  per- 
haps disagreeable. 


62  Nan. 

By  the  time  they  had  reached  the  door,  some  degree  of 
quiet  seemed  to  have  reached  them,  though  as  they  poured 
into  the  hall  they  were  all  panting  from  the  variety  of  ex- 
ercises in  which  they  had  been  indulging. 

"  Dear  me,  Miss  Phyllis !"  said  Mrs.  Heriot,  who  had 
hurried  out  into  the  hall,  "  you  must  be  quite  wet.  Do  let 
me  have  your  things." 

Phyllis  submitted  gracefully  to  having  them  taken  from 
her. 

"And  the  children — perhaps,"  faltered  Mrs.  Heriot,  "I 
might  take  them  right  out  into  the  kitchen  to  dry  a  mo- 
ment." 

The  tribe  showed  signs  of  joy  at  this  suggestion ;  but 
they  also  looked  eagerly  at  the  new  cousin  standing  half- 
shyly  in  the  parlor-door. 

And  then  that  involuntary  look  and  air  of  sweet  uncon- 
sciousness came  over  little  Nan. 

"Oh,  may  I  come  too?"  she  said;  and  before  any  one 
could  say  how  it  was  done  she  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
cousins,  who  were  looking  at  her  and  talking  to  her  all  in  a 
quick,  excited  way — all  except  Laura,  who  had  drawn  back 
close  to  where  Phyllis  sat  on  one  of  the  hall  chairs. 

Nan  looked  up  shyly  towards  her.  She  was  very  pret- 
ty—  fairer  and  daintier  than  Cousin  Phyllis,  but  how 
different  from  the  latter's  smiling  glance  was  her  frown, 


Nan.  63 

and  the  half-pout  which  spoiled  the  curve  of  her  pretty 
mouth ! 

"Oh,  do  come!"  cried  Joan,  the  tallest  of  the  twins. 
" Oh,  Mrs. Heriot — Phyllis — can't  we  go  at  once?" 

It  seemed  as  if  neither  of  the  two  appealed  to  had  any 
idea  of  resistance.  Phyllis,  divested  of  her  wet  garments, 
sauntered  towards  the  parlor,  closely  followed  by  Laura, 
while  the  rest  trooped  after  Mrs.  Heriot  to  the  kitchen. 

The  kitchen  at  Rolf  House  was  down-stairs,  and  was  a 
place  which  had  already  fascinated  Nan — it  was  so  large 
and  bright  and  homelike.  Susan,  the  cook,  though  a  trifle 
cross,  was  a  very  interesting  person,  capable  of  telling  long 
stories,  and  supplying  young  people  with  good  things  out 
of  tin  boxes  in  her  corner  cupboards.  There  were  high 
windows  in  this  kitchen,  and  to  the  left  were  the  pantry 
and  dairy-room.  Susan  had  under  her  a  young  girl  named 
Martha,  with  whom  Nan  longed  secretly  to  make  friends. 
When  the  cousins  trooped  down  into  the  kitchen,  Martha 
was  kneading  bread,  and  Susan  was  preparing  some  cheese. 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  all  sitting  about  the  fire, 
in  spite  of  Susan's  exclamations  and  Mrs.  Heriot's  air  of 
dread  as  to  what  might  happen,  and  very  soon  a  liberal 
supply  of  doughnuts  and  cookies  was  dispensed.  Then 
Joan  exclaimed,  "  Mrs.  Heriot — please — we  want  to  go  to 
the  attic.  May  we  ?" 


64  Nan. 

I  Mrs.  Heriot  began  to  look  dubious,  and  Nan  said,  "  What's 
in  the  attic  ?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Dick  eagerly,  "  it's  the  jolliest  old  place  to 
play  in  !  You'll  like  it  ever  so  much.  Mayn't  we  ?" 

"  If  you'll  behave  yourselves,"  said  Mrs.  Heriot,  as  grave- 
ly as  possible.  "  Now  mind,  Dicksie  boy ;  no  tantaran- 
tums." 

Whatever  they  were,  Dicksie  readily  agreed  to  give  way 
to  none ;  and,  as  soon  as  their  wet  feet  were  dry,  the  young 
Rolfs  from  College  Street  were  on  their  way  to  a  part  of 
the  house  Nan  had  never  seen. 

Meanwhile  Joan  had  tight  hold  of  Nan's  brown  little 
hand  :  she  had  already  whispered  to  her, "  Nan,  I  love  you ;" 
and  Nan  had  responded  by  a  fervent  hug,  which,  although 
it  nearly  stifled  Joan,  had  seemed  to  produce  a  complete 
understanding  between  them. 


Nan.  65 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  attic  at  Kolf  House  was  a  large,  irregular  place, 
lighted  by  queer  little  windows,  and  which  extended  over 
the  entire  house.  There  were  some  bins  in  it,  the  bottoms 
partially  covered  with  nuts,  and  several  old  trunks,  some 
broken  pieces  of  furniture,  and  a  locked  chest  of  drawers. 
A  swing  had  been  hung  from  one  of  the  beams,  and  Bertie 
and  Alfred,  the  younger  boys,  had  left  their  carpentering 
tools  in  one  of  the  many  irregular  corners. 

"  Did  you  never  come  up  here  ?"  asked  Joan  of  Nan,  as 
they  arrived  at  the  last  step  of  the  attic  stairs.  Joan  had 
a  thin  little  face,  and  a  queer  way  of  puckering  up  her  lips 
after  she  said  anything.  She  looked,  as  Nan  expressed  it 
to  herself,  " ready  for  anything" 

"  No,"  said  Nan.  "  You  see,  I've  just  gone  wherever  I 
was  told  to." 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  Dick,  in  tones  either  of  dismay  or  dis- 
appointment. "  Are  you  that  kind  of  a  girl  ?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  said  Nan,  trying  to  laugh.     "  See 


66  Nan. 

here,  won't  you  tell  me  all  your  names  and  ages,  and  every- 
thing?" 

Joan's  eyes  twinkled.  "  Oh,  wait,  Nan  !"  she  said.  "  It'll 
be  such  fun  if  you  don't  know.  Now  please — we'll  make 
a  game  of  it :  see  here."  For  a  moment  the  boys  seemed 
rebellious,  but  Joan  quelled  them  by  a  look.  "  See,  Nan, 
you  sit  down  there." 

Nan,  quite  willing  to  be  amused,  especially  by  Joan,  sat 
down  in  an  old  arm-chair,  while  her  spirited  cousin  had  in 
a  moment  whisked  all  the  others  into  the  bins.  She  then 
went  over  to  one  side  of  the  attic,  where  there  was  a  tall, 
rather  tattered  screen,  which  she  dragged  across,  placing  it 
at  an  appropriate  distance  between  Nan  and  the  young 
people  who  were  skirmishing  around  in  the  bins..  Over 
this  she  hung  some  newspapers,  saying,  meanwhile, "  We've 
often  played  at  theatricals  this  way." 

"  Is  it  to  be  theatricals  ?"  inquired  Nan  from  her  place  as 
audience. 

"Not  quite"  responded  Joan,  shaking  her  elf-locks. 
" Because, you  see,  it  will  be  all  true" 

She  then  retired  behind  the  screen,  and  held  various  half- 
audible  conversations  with  the  children  in  the  bins.  Nan 
could  hear  Alfred  complaining  that  the  nuts  hurt  his  knees, 
and  Dick  inquiring  if  he  could  say  some  poetry  when  he 
came  out ;  but  Joan  evidently  governed  them  all  satisfac- 


Nan.  67 

torily,  for  in  a  short  time  there  was  silence.  Then  came  the. 
sound  of  a  singular  kind  of  music.  It  seemed  to  be  produced 
by  Joan  "  murmuring "  through  closed  teeth,  and  as  it  had 
no  particular  tune,  or  idea  of  any,  it  was,  in  an  attic,  rather 
melancholy ;  but  at  last  there  emerged  from  behind  the 
screen  a  figure  wrapped  in  an  old  red  curtain  Nan  had 
seen  in  a  corner,  and  Joan's  voice  said,  "  Ricardo  Rolfo — 
appear !"  And,  with  some  scrambling,  Dicksie  came  out, 
standing  very  still. 

"  This  boy,"  said  Joan,  in  a  sepulchral  tone,  "  is  Mr. 
Walter  Rolf's  second  son.  He  is  nearly  thirteen.  He  at- 
tends the  High-school,  and  has  taken  three  prizes.  He  has 
the  honor  of  being  Joan  Rolf's  twin  brother,  although,  alas ! 
he  cauefes  her  more  pain  than  joy.  He  will  recite." 

Whereupon  Dicksie  began,  in  a  tragic  tone : 

"  And  this  to  me  he  said : 
And  t'were  not  for  thy  hoary  beard, 
The*  hand  of  Richard  had  not  spared 
To  cleave  the  Joan's  head." 

He  made  a  dab  towards  Joan  as  he  said  this,  and  Nan  in- 
terposed : 

"  Oh,  I  know  that !  It's  out  of  Marmion  ;  but  it  really 
says, '  The  hand  of  Marmion  had  not  spared  to  cleave  the 
Douglas'  head.' " 


68  Nan. 

"  Oh  well,  I  know,  Nan,"  said  Joan's  voice  from  inside 
her  wrappings.  "  But  you  needn't  be  so  particular ;  we  say 
lots  of  pieces  like  that  and  put  our  own  names  in.  Now," 
she  added,  in  an  altered  voice,  "Kicardo,  retire.  Next!" 
And  Alfred's  curly  little  head  appeared. 

"  This,"  said  Joan,  "  is  Alfred,  so-called  the  great,  as  his 
appetite  never  fails.  He  is  nearly  eleven.  He  is  most  pro- 
ficient in  standing  upon  his  head.  Alfred — heads !" 

Whereupon  Alfred's  head  suddenly  took  the  place  of  his 
heels,  the  latter  dangling  an  instant  in  the  air  before  Joan 
suddenly  slapped  them  downwards,  and  he  retired  very  pur- 
ple and  rather  irritated. 

"  Next !"  Joan  exclaimed.  And  Bertie,  much  the  worse 
for  nuts,  appeared.  Bertie  had  Phyllis's  soft  eyes  and  gen- 
tle look,  with  Joan's  dark  hair.  Nan  instinctively  felt,''  He's 
a  darling,"  and  all  the  time  Joan  spoke  he  kept  trying  to 
hide  a  dear  little  dimpling  smile. 

"  This  young  person,"  said  Joan,  in  a  most  terrible  voice, 
"  fears  neither  parent  nor  sister.  He  is  aged  in  years  seven. 
Yet  he  is  old  in  iniquities,  such  as  running  away,  tearing 
his  clothes,  losing  his  school-books,  and  forgetting  his  les- 
sons. However,  people  try  to  love  him,"  and  here  Joan,  in 
spite  of  her  wraps  and  her  character  of  oracle,  made  a  sort 
of  jump  towards  him  which  ended  in  a  squeeze — "and 
he  does  know  how  to  sing.  Sing !" 


BERTIE,  MUCH  THE  WOBSE  FOB  NUTS,  APPEABED.' 


Nan.  69 

Upon  this  Bertie  began  and  sang  quite  through  a  pretty 
little  childish  song,  in  a  voice  like  that  of  a  thrush.  Nan 
thought  she  could  cry  over  it;  but  Joan  quickly  hustled 
him  away,  and,  throwing  off  her  disguise,  said  in  a  very  ordi- 
nary although  fatigued  voice : 

"  Wasn't  that  fun,  Nan  !  Now  I  think  you  ought  to  talk 
about  yourself." 

Nan  crimsoned,  remembering  Phyllis's  words  of  warning, 
yet  in  the  child's  heart  a  sense  of  honesty  arose  which  pre- 
dominated over  everything  else.  She  said, trying  to  laugh: 

"  It  was  real  fun ;  how  well  you  did  it,  Joan !  Well,  I'll 
tell  you.  You  know  I  am  the  daughter  of  Aunt  Letty's 
nephew,  but  I've  been  living  for  some  time  with  very  poor, 
common  kind  of  people,  you  would  say — with  my  Step-aunt 
and  Uncle  Rupert.  They  keep  a  butter-and-cheese  shop  in 
Brornfield,  Connecticut." 

A  dismayed  group  clustered  for  a  moment  about  her. 

"But  you  are  OUT  cousin,"  exclaimed  Joan. 

"  Of  course"  said  Nan,  holding  her  head  up  very  high  ; 
"and  you  are  no  relation  of  the  Ruperts  at  all." 

There  was  silence  for  an  instant.  Then  Joan  said,  puck- 
ering up  her  nose  scornfully, "  Oh  well,  where's  the  differ- 
ence? Don't  let's  bother  about  it,  anyhow."  And  with 
her  usual  energy  she  proceeded  to  think  of  another  game. 

"  If  Laura  only  chose  to  do  it,"  she  said,  looking  around 


70  Nan. 

the  big,  fast -darkening  attic,  "she  could  tell  us  a  lovely 
story." 

"  Oh,  do  get  her  to  do  it,"  cried  Nan.  "  Shall  I  go  for 
her?" 

Joan  thought  a  moment,  and  then  said  " Yes"  very  im- 
pressively. 

Nan,  under  the  influence  of  young  companionship,  had 
lost  all  sense  of  timidity  in  the  large,  silent  house.  She 
darted  down  the  attic-stairs  quickly,  and  along  the  upper 
corridors  and  down  to  the  parlor  where  Laura  and  Phyllis 
were  seated. 


Nan.  71 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHEN  the  children  went  up-stairs,  Laura  Eolf  followed 
her  elder  sister  into  the  parlor  almost  crying.  To  her  way 
of  thinking,  Nan  was  a  real  little  intruder.  It  was  she  who 
hitherto  had  been  old  Miss  Rolf's  favorite,  she  who  had 
been  treated  with  most  deference  when  she  came  to  the 
house ;  and  the  idea  of  this  queer,vulgar  girl's  coming  in  to 
usurp  her  place  was  unbearable. 

The  parlor  looked  rather  gloomy  on  this  rainy  May  after- 
noon. Even  cheerful  Phyllis  felt  it.  While  Laura  sat  sulk- 
ily in  the  window,  she  drew  near  to  the  little  smouldering 
fire  and  tried  to  divert  her  mind  by  reading.  It  would 
have  been  a  great  comfort  to  Phyllis  had  she  known  just 
how  to  help  and  govern  her  younger  brothers  and  sisters, 
but  unfortunately  her  life  had  been  led  with  no  standards 
for  human  conduct.  Her  father  was  a  happy,  idle  man,  who 
cared  only  for  his  own  pleasure  and  comfort,  and  Phyllis 
had  grown  up  with  no  one  to  say  to  her,  "  Do  this  because 
it  is  right.  Do  not  do  this  because  it  is  wrong" 

She  was  beautiful  and  clever  and  gentle-hearted,  but  she 


72  Nan. 

had  never  once  learned  that  lesson  of  bearing  and  forbear- 
ing, nor  had  she  seen  how  necessary  to  all  happiness  is  the 
living  according  to  God's  golden  rule.  Her  sisters  and 
brothers  had  been  left  wholly  to  her  guidance.  This  was 
well  enough,  so  far  as  she  thought,  while  the  children  were 
very  young;  but  now  they  were  growing  older,  beginning 
to  develop  instincts  and  ideas  and  have  purposes  of  their 
own.  Phyllis  would  not  have  admitted  it  to  herself,  but 
sometimes  she  felt  dismayed,  having  no  rock  of  guidance — 
no  place  to  go  and  seek  the  help  she  needed. 

While  Laura  sulked  in  the  window,  beating  her  heels 
against  the  wainscot  and  trying  to  pout  as  visibly  as  possi- 
ble, Phyllis  sat  down  by  the  fire  with  a  book  in  her  hand, 
which  she  could  not  read.  Then  Laura  began  : 

"  I  do  think,  Phyllis,  this  is  disgraceful.  The  idea  of 
Cousin  Letty's  having  to  hunt  about  for  some  one  to  be 
her  heiress.  I  do  think  it's  too  mean." 

Laura  paused.  Phyllis  turned  her  finely  cut,  sweet  face 
around  towards  the  window,  where  the  rain  beat,  and  where 
her  little  sister  was  sitting,  the  picture  of  wrath  and  ill- 
temper. 

"  And  I'm  sure  we'll  all  be  ashamed  of  her,"  Laura  went 
on.  "  How  can  we  help  it  ?  Eight  out  of  such  a  set." 

"  Laura !"  said  Phyllis,  suddenly  standing  up.  "  There 
was  no  set,  as  you  call  it,  about  it.  This  child  is  your  cousin 


Nan.  73 

quite  as  much  as  she  is  the  niece  of  those  Ruperts,  and  I 
think  it  wicked  of  you  to  feel  like  that — I — " 

And  then  the  door  opened  upon  Nan  herself.  She  had 
come  down  breathless  from  the  attic,  and  just  the  sight  of 
Cousin  Phyllis's  face  seemed  to  cheer  her  as  she  came  into 
the  room.  Laura  turned  away,  resolutely  pressing  her  face 
against  the  window-pane.  She  was  determined  that,  at  all 
events,  this  interloper  should  not  make  friends  with  her. 

Nan  stood  still  a  moment  in  the  doorway.  She  had  on 
the  brown  dress  Phyllis  had  bought  her,  and  with  dainty 
lace  frills  in  her  neck  and  sleeves,  and  with  that  sweet,  kind- 
ly look  upon  her  face,  she  looked  anything  but  the  vulgar 
interloper  which  Laura  had  considered  her. 

"  I've  come  for — Cousin  Laura,"  she  said,  timidly.  "  Joan 
says  you  could  tell  us  such  a  lovely  story  if  you  would. 
Will  you  please,  Laura  ?" 

Phyllis  said  nothing.  Laura  turned  a  very  contemptu- 
ous gaze  around  upon  her  unwelcome  cousin,  but  the  dark- 
ening color  at  her  back  quite  hid  her  face.  Nan  saw  only 
the  pretty,  waving  blonde  hair,  the  outline  of  cheek  and 
chin  so  like  Phyllis's. 

"  Will  you  ?"  she  repeated. 

"  Yes,"  said  Laura.  She  got  up,  still  very  sullenly,  and 
walked  towards  the  door.  Phyllis  knew  she  was  in  a  bad 
temper. 


74 


Nan. 


"  Laura !"  she  called  out,  but  the  door  closed,  and  whether 
she  heard  or  not,  Laura  walked  on  entirely  unmindful  of  the 
voice. 

"  They  are  in  the  attic,"  said  Nan,  on  the  staircase. 

"All  right,"  rejoined  Laura.  It  was  all  that  she  would 
say  until  the  attic  was  reached.  The  children  greeted  her 
tumultuously,  but  by  this  time  Kan  had  begun  to  feel  very 
uncomfortable;  for  it  was  clearly  evident  that  her  cousin 
Laura  was  quite  unlike  Phyllis  or  Joan.  Nan  felt  she 
might  admire  her,  but  could  she  ever  love  her  ?  And  Nan, 
who  never  before  had  known  the  association  of  cousins 
whom  she  felt  were  well-bred  and  refined,  longed  to  make 
herself  at  once  one  with  these  girls. 

When  they  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs  Laura  drew  back 
a  moment,  but  Joan  sprang  forward,  exclaiming, 

"  Lollie !  Lollie !  do  come  and  tell  us  a  nice  story !" 

Laura  frowned.  She  hung  back  against  the  railing  of 
the  staircase  for  a  moment  before  she  decided  to  join  the 
group  above. 

Joan  evidently  valued  Laura's  capacity  for  telling  stories. 
She  placed  an  easy-chair  and  commanded  the  children  to 
silence,  while  she  motioned  Nan  imperiously  to  the  next 
best  seat,  she  herself  coddling  against  Laura's  knee.  All 
this  seemed  to  mollify  Laura,  who  looked  out  upon  the  lit- 
tle rain-washed  garden  below  the  window,  and  then  said : 


Nan.  75 

*  I'll  tell  a  new  story  I've  just  made  up." 

"  Um — um — um,"  murmured  Joan,  convulsively  clutch- 
ing Laura's  knee.  "  You  see,"  she  added,  looking  up  at 
Nan,  "  Laura  is  perfectly  wonderful  about  stories." 

"  Well,"  began  Laura,  "  there  was  once  a  princess  " — she 
paused  now  and  then  to  think  it  over — "  who  didn't  know 
exactly  where  she  was  from  ;  that  is,  she  knew  she  was  a 
princess  and  had  a  right  to  a  crown,  yet  she  couldn't  tell 
how  it  was.  One  day  an  old  fairy  appeared  to  her  and 
said, '  Come  home  with  me ;  I  am  your  guardian  genie,  and 
I  have  care  of  your  fortunes.'  And  so  she  took  her  to  a 
wonderful  palace  all  loaded  with  precious  stones  and  where 
the  princess  had  everything.  She  had  all  she  liked,  or  im- 
agined she  could  care  for.  And  so  she  lived  on  and  on,  and 
the  fairy  loved  her  and  treated  her  like  her  own  child. 
Well,  one  day  she  went  out  for  a  walk  in  the  by-ways — " 

"  What  are  the  by-ways  ?"  interrupted  Alfred. 

"  By-ways  are  streets  belonging  to  princesses,"  said  Joan, 
giving  Alfred's  foot  a  push  with  her  own.  "  Don't  in- 
terrupt." 

"Well,  you  interrupt,  miss,"  grumbled  Alfred. 

Laura  went  on :  "  When  the  princess  returned  from  her 
walk  she  found  the  whole  palace  changed :  the  servants  and 
everybody  refused  to  let  her  in.  They  said  she  was  a  mere 
nothing"  and  here  Laura  curled  her  lips  as  disdainfully  as 


76  Nan. 

possible ;  "  that  the  fairy  had  now  a  new  favorite.  This 
made  the  princess  cry  very  hard,  but  she  sat  down  outside 
the  gates,  and  as  every  one  would  come  out  she  asked  some- 
thing about  the  fairy's  new  favorite,  and  she  was  delighted 
to  hear  she  was  very  unhappy.  So  time  went  on,  and — " 

Here  Laura's  stpry  suddenly  came  to  a  close,  for  Miss 
Eolf  s  voice  was  heard  below ;  and  Alfred  the  Great  sprang 
up,  exclaiming : 

"  Tea — ee — ee — tea.     I  know  !" 

Laura  rose  with  a  very  grand  air,  and  Joan  said, 

"  I  didn't  feel  much  interested  in  that  story,  any  way." 

"  Well,"  said  Laura,  sharply,  "  it  would  have  been  very 
interesting,  and,"  she  added,  with  a  glance  at  Kan,  "  it  was 
about  true  people" 

Kan  stood  up  with  the  others,  and,  catching  Laura's 
meaning  glance,  she  wondered  just  what  it  was  intended 
for.  Perhaps,  she  thought,  Laura  would  explain  it  later. 

Romp  as  they  would,  the  cousins  knew  that  Miss  Rolf 
expected  them  to  look  neat  and  clean  when  they  came  to 
the  table.  So  they  all  trooped  down  to  Nan's  room,  where 
Laura  looked  at  everything  very  critically,  while  the  young- 
er ones  washed  their  hands.  Nan  came  up  near  to  Laura 
once  or  twice  and  tried  to  make  friends  pleasantly,  but  it 
was  generosity  wasted.  Laura's  mind  was  evidently  warped 
by  her  jealousy,  and  little  Nan  turned  for  comfort  to  Joan, 


Nan.  77 

who  was  ready  enough  with  love  and  friendship,  or  cousin- 
ship,  to  any  extent. 

"  Nan,"  Joan  whispered, "  we'll  have  to  go  down  and  see 
Cousin  Letty  first  before  tea,  and  we  must  walk  as  straight 
— as  straight !" 

Joan's  face  puckered  comically  as  she  said  this,  and  Nan 
answered  by  a  tight  hug.  The  two  walked  down  the  stairs 
arm  in  arm,  and  so  entered  the  long,  old-fashioned  drawing- 
room  where  Miss  Rolf  and  Phyllis  were  seated. 

Nan's  little  face  was  beaming;  and  in  spite  of  her  cold- 
ness old  Miss  Rolf  looked  at  the  child  with  a  pleased  air. 
She  liked  the  smile  and  the  gladness  about  Nan's  mouth 
and  eyes.  She  put  her  hand  out,  drew  Nan  towards  her, 
and  kissed  her  more  tenderly  than  ever  before.  Then  she 
turned  to  Laura,  saying, 

"  Well,  dear,  how  are  you  to-day  ?  Haven't  you  a  word 
for  your  old  cousin  ?" 

Nan  had  never  heard  Miss  Rolf's  voice  so  gentle,  nor  had 
she  ever  seen  her  look  just  as  she  did  at  Laura.  It  was 
very  evident  that  Laura  was  her  favorite. 

"  Oh,"  said  Laura,  laughing,  "  I've  plenty  to  say,  Cousin 
Letty ;  but  I  don't  suppose  I'm  any  consequence  now !" 

She  knelt  down  by  the  old  lady,  who  smoothed  her  fair 
hair  softly,  while  Nan  and  the  others  walked  over  to  the 
big,  low  window  which  overlooked  one  portion  of  the  gar- 


78  Nan. 

dens.  An  animated  though  whispered  conversation  went 
on.  Joan  had  decided  that  she  would  tell  Nan  what  she 
called  the  secret,  and  Alfred  tried  to  rebel  against  it. 

Meanwhile  Nan  sat  curled  up  in  one  end  of  the  window, 
trying  to  suppress  her  desire  to  laugh,  and  Joan,  kneeling 
down  in  front  of  her  and  pressing  her  elbows  into  Nan's 
knees,  held  her  thin  little  face  in  her  hands  and  looked  un- 
utterable things  at  Alfred. 

Phyllis  glanced  from  the  two  figures  by  the  hearth — the 
old  lady  and  pretty,  ill-tempered  Laura — to  the  group  in  the 
window,  of  which  Nan  was  the  centre.  Something  about 
that  child  stirred  within  the  worldly  girl's  heart  a  feeling 
of  respect  which  was  not  unlike  fear.  She  felt  that  if  only 
she  were  a  few  years  older,  Nan  could  be  her  very  dear- 
est friend.  And,  after  all,  between  twelve  and  twenty  the 
years  are  not  so  many.  Nan  possessed  what  Phyllis  knew  not 
of.  With  all  her  giddiness,  her  love  of  fun,  her  wild,  perhaps 
disorderly,  ways,  she  had  the  secret  of  openness  and  truth, 
of  that  "  fearlessness  in  grace  "  which  only  God  can  give. 

"  I  will  tell,"  said  Joan,  in  a  determined  whisper.  "  Nan, 
see  here :  we  belong  to  a  society ;  it's  us  all  and  some  of  our 
friends,  and  early  in  June  you  can  be  inshated." 

"  In-itiated,"  corrected  Alfred. 

"  Well,  whatever  you  call  it,"  said  Joan,  with  a  toss  of  her 
head ;  "  and  then  it  will  be  great  fun !" 


AN  ANIMATED  THOUGH  WHISPERED   CONVERSATION  WENT  ON. 


79 

Nan's  eyes  danced.  "  Oh,  won't  it !"  she  exclaimed.  "  Is 
it  hard  to  be  in — initiated  ?" 

Joan  smiled  in  a  superior  manner.  "  Oh  " — she  looked 
at  Alfred — "  I  should  say  it  was !  But,  Nan,"  she  added, 
quietly,  "  we  won't  make  it  very  frightening.  At  least  it 
has  to  be  some  frightening,  but  we'll  do  our  best." 

The  tea-bell  interrupted  Nan  in  the  answer  she  was  about 
to  make,  but  all  during  the  meal  she  thought  of  the  horrors 
and  also  of  the  glory  before  her.  But  when  would  she  be 
allowed  to  go  to  College  Street  ?  She  determined  as  soon 
as  possible  to  ask  her  aunt  whether  she  might  not  return 
her  cousins'  visit.  Somehow  Nan  began  no  longer  to  fear 
the  old  lady's  kiss.  She  had  seen  the  look  on  Miss  Eolf's 
face  when  she  entered  the  drawing-room,  and  it  comforted 
her  very  heart. 


80  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"THERE!"  exclaimed  Nan,  shutting  her  exercise  -  book 
with  a  bang.  "  There,  Miss  Prior,  it  is  finished !" 

"  I  should  say  it  was,"  Miss  Prior  answered,  very  calmly. 
"  Look  how  you  have  blotted  it." 

Nan's  countenance  fell.  Her  one  idea  had  been  haste, 
and  it  was  quite  true  that  the  exercise,  though  all  written, 
was  blotted  heavily. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?"  she  said,  grumblingly. 

"Write  it  over  again,"  rejoined  the  governess,  in  her 
iciest  tones. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Prior,  I  can't !     I  shall  be  too  late." 

"  You  know  my  rule,  Annice,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  can 
never  liope  to  correct  you  of  your  giddy,  disorderly  ways  if 
I  once  overlook  anything.  Come :  '  La  Cigale  ayant  chante.' " 
And  Miss  Prior,  without  relaxing  a  muscle  of  her  face,  be- 
gan to  dictate  the  exercise  which  Kan  had  just  written. 

The  room  in  which  Nan  and  her  governess  were  seated 
was  one  which  had,  half  a  century  before,  been  Miss  Rolf's 
own  school-room.  It  had  been  unused  so  long  that  every- 


Nan.  8 1 

thing  looked  faded  and  more  old-fashioned  even  than  other 
parts  of  the  large  house.  The  first  time  Nan  entered  it  she 
thought  what  a  lovely  place  it  would  be  to  romp  in,  for  it 
was  so  large,  and  the  furniture  so  scant ;  but,  under  Miss 
Prior's  rule,  romping  anywhere,  Nan  discovered,  would  be 
considered  most  unpardonable.  A  faded  Turkey  carpet  of 
indefinite  reds  was  on  the  floor;  some  old-fashioned  maps 
and  charts  hung  on  the  walls  between  the  four  windows — 
one  at  each  end,  two  at  the  side ;  there  were  globes  and 
one  or  two  desks ;  a  piano  of  more  recent  date  than  the  rest 
of  the  furniture — though  rather  a  "  tin  pan  "  at  best,  Nan 
thought — was  between  two  of  the  windows,  and  at  one  side 
an  elaborate  chemical  apparatus,  which  Nan  longed  to  have 
some  day  entirely  to  herself.  Nan's  desk  was  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room — Miss  Prior  objected  to  her  being  near  the 
windows — and  the  governess  always  occupied  a  stiff  chair 
near  a  little  table  to  her  right.  Now,  with  all  Nan's  lack 
of  education,  and  the  vulgarity  of  her  recent  surroundings, 
she  dearly  loved  to  see  pretty  objects  about  her,  to  have 
bright,  soft  colors  in  view — something  to  please  her  eye  as 
well  as  her  heart.  And  the  dreary  school-room  oppressed 
her  even  in  this  soft  May  weather;  but  Miss  Prior  op- 
pressed her  still  more.  "  That  lady,"  Joan  Rolf  remarked, 
"would  freeze  a  canary  with  a  look;"  and  Nan,  for  all  her 
high  spirits,  felt  the  process  of  chilling  go  on  very  success- 


82  Nan. 

fully  when  she  was  with  her  governess.  Yet  Miss  Prior 
never  for  an  instant  suspected  that  she  was  not  the  very 
wisest  and  kindest  and  most  comprehensive  of  Nan's  new 
friends.  In  person  she  was  rather  small,  with  thin  blonde 
hair,  which  she  wore  gathered  into  the  smallest  possible 
knot  at  the  back  of  her  head,  light  blue  eyes,  perfectly 
regular,  cold  features,  the  lips  as  thin  as  they  could  be  and 
ever  open,  the  chin  decidedly  square.  Unfortunately  for 
herself,  Miss  Prior  was  one  of  those  persons  who  consider 
themselves  as  injured  by  having  to  work  for  her  living,  and 
it  seemed  to  her  as  though  she  ought  always  to  enforce 
upon  others  a  sense  of  her  "  dignity:"  Whenever  she  did 
unbend  with  Nan  it  was  to  tell  of  the  comforts  and  ele- 
gancies of  her  life  before  "  poor  papa  "died,  and  she  never 
discovered  that  Nan  was  by  no  means  impressed  either  by 
a  sense  of  her  former  glory,  or  any  feeling  that  she  was  not 
doing  the  part  of  a  perfect  lady  in  being  a  governess.  Miss 
Rolf  had  engaged  her  on  the  strength  of  the  warm  recom- 
mendations of  Western  friends,  and  also  because  she  was 
really  highly  educated,  so  far  as  book-learning  went ;  but 
little  Nan  needed  a  warmer,  finer  kind  of  association.  Just 
then  her  governess  should  have  been  her  dearest  friend. 

On  this  morning  Nan's  haste  and  her  impatience  were 
partially  excusable,  for  she  was  to  pay  her  first  visit  to  the 
cousins  in  College  Street  at  three  o'clock ;  and  Mrs.  Heriot 


Nan.  83 

would  keep  her  "  forever,"  thought  Nan,  doing  her  hair  and 
looking  over  her  dress,  and  it  was  already  one,  and  in  two 
minutes,  Nan  felt  sure,  the  dinner-bell  would  ring — and, 
there!  went  another  blot.  Nan's  little  brown  head  bent 
lower  and  lower  over  her  writing,  while  her  feelings  arose 
in  rebellion.  She  crooked  her  elbows  out  more  and  more, 
and  received  a  "  fillip  "  of  an  exasperating  kind  from  Miss 
Prior's  thimble,  and,  at  last,  flurried  and  nervous,  let  a  tear 
splash  down  and  mingle  with  a  very  blackly  written  word 
in  a  little  inky  stream. 

"  Annice !"  exclaimed  Miss  Prior.  She  stood  up  in  per- 
fect horror. 

Nan  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  two  more  tears  gathering 
under  her  dark  lashes.  She  felt  humble  and  ashamed,  al- 
though it  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  write  one  other  word. 

"  You  can  go  away  now,"  said  Miss  Prior,  very  icily, "  and 
get  ready  for  dinner — but  the  work  must  remain  where  it 
is;  and  when  you  come  to  your  lessons  to-morrow,  the  exer- 
cise shall  be  written  twice  instead  of  once." 

Nan's  penitence  vanished ;  for  here  she  felt  was  injustice. 
How  much  more  would  a  gentle  word,  even  of  rebuke,  have 
done  for  her!  But  she  was  glad  to  escape.  She  went  away 
to  her  room  and  dried  her  eyes,  listening  to  the  dinner-bell 
with  a  sense  of  relief. 

But  as  she  went  down  the  long  staircase,  which  was  flood- 

7 


84  Nan. 

ed  with  May  sunlight,  a  curious  feeling  of  loneliness  came 
over  little  Nan.  She  knew  that  everything  money  could 
buy  was  given  her  freely,  that  every  one  about  her  meant 
to  be  good  and  kind.  But  there  was  something  wanting — 
a  lack  which  made  Nan's  heart  swell,  and  a  sob  rise  invol- 
untarily to  her  throat ;  what  was  it  ?  And  why,  with  all 
their  common  ways  and  vulgar  ideas,  had  she  not  misseu 
just  this  one  thing  in  the  Kuperts'  household  ?  She  walked 
slowly  across  the  hall,  thinking  how  much  she  would  give 
"for  one  sight  of  her  Cousin  Philip's  homely,  gentle  counte- 
nance, one  hour  with  him  on  the  beach  or  among  his  shells 
and  poor  little  collection  of  curiosities.  Yet  it  was  only 
one  month  since  she  felt  herself  such  a  proud  heroine  of 
romance ! 

Miss  Rolf  was  waiting  for  Nan  at  the  head  of  the  dinner- 
table.  Seated  behind  the  glittering  silver  and  glass,  dressed, 
as  usual,  faultlessly,  with  her  rich  old  laces  and  dark  silks, 
the  old  lady  looked  to  Nan  the  very  concentration  of  com- 
fort and  luxurious  ease.  Of  course  Nan  did  not  define  i* 
in  this  way  to  herself ;  on  the  contrary,  it  made  her  only 
feel  confused  and  sad,  and  long  for  something,  she  knew 
not  what.  She  came  into  the  room  timidly,  still  very  near 
to  tears ;  and  then  she  saw  Miss  Rolf  look  at  her  with  a 
curious  glance,  half  pity,  half  affection,  altogether  something 
gentler  than  Nan  had  ever  seen. 


Nan.  85 

The  old  lady  put  out  one  of  her  beautiful  white  hands, 
and  Kan  seemed  to  know  what  she  meant.  She  came  up 
very  quietly,  and  laid  her  own  little  trembling  fingers  in  it. 

"Nan,"  Aunt  Letty  said,  "you  look  sometimes  so  like 
your  father !" 

Nan's  restraint  soon  gave  way  at  this.  It  was  certainly 
queer,  in  the  middle  of  a  bright  sunshiny  day,  and  just  at 
dinner-time,  for  no  apparent  reason,  to  burst  into  tears — but 
that  is  precisely  what  Nan  did.  She  flung  her  arms  about 
the  old  lady's  neck  and  sobbed  passionately  against  the  rich 
brown  silk  dress,  while,  what  was  more  singular,  Miss  Rolf 
just  let  her  cry  away,  holding  her  tenderly  and  kissing  the 
rough  mass  of  brown  hair  softly. 

Robert,  the  butler,  luckily  did  not  come  in  on  this  scene, 
for  I  am  afraid  he  would  have  thought  his  mistress  had  en- 
tirely lost  her  senses.  To  the  servants  as  well  as  to  Nan 
Miss  Rolf  was  like  a  queen — proud,  reserved,  and  certainly  not 
a  person  before  whom  to  betray  any  weakness;  but  the  tender- 
ness of  the  arms  about  Nan  was  unmistakable.  When  the 
little  girl  lifted  up  her  flushed,  tear-stained  face,  she  seemed 
to  feel  as  if  everything  danced  in  a  glad  light  about  her, 
and  Miss  Rolf  had  a  delicate  pink  flush  on  her  old  cheeks. 
She  looked  almost  as  transformed  and  as  excited  as  Nan. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  she  said,  very  quietly, "  by-and-by  you'll  tell 
me  all  about  it." 


86  Nan. 

She  held  the  little  girl's  hot  head  closely,  and  looked  at 
her  with  something  about  her  own  eyelashes  that  glistened ; 
for  she  was  thinking  of  a  day,  thirty  years  ago,  when  Nan's 
father  had  been  her  idol.  No  child  had  ever  wept  in  her 
arms,  or  looked  as  if  they  wanted  to  kiss  her,  since  those 
days,  and  perhaps  the  perfectly  natural  outburst  on  Nan's 
part  had  made  her  feel  what  she  had  lost  through  pride 
and  self-will. 

"Nannie,"  the  old  lady  said,  earnestly,  "I've  a  long 
story  to  tell  you  some  day  about  your  father.  Some  day  I 
mean  you  to  hear  it.  Now  sit  down,  my  child.  There!" 
added  Miss  Rolf)?quickly,  her  old  stern  look  coming  back — 
"  there  is  Robert.  Robert,  you  were  a  long  time  bringing 
in  the  soup.  I  must  make  Susan  understand  promptness 
better."  „ 

Nan  glided  into  her  seat,  wondering  if  Eobert  noticed 
how  red  her  eyes  were.  But  that  distinguished  person  did 
not  betray  it  if  he  had.  He  moved  about  noiselessly  as 
usual,  and  attended  to  Miss  R-olf's  slightest  look  with  the 
greatest  alacrity. 


"MISS  ROLF  JUST  LET  HER  CRY." 


Nan.  87 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IT  had  been  arranged  that  Mrs.  Heriot  was  to  take  Nan 
down  to  the  Rolfs'  in  College  Street,  and  my  little  heroine 
had  to  go  through  her  usual  worry  of  mind  when  that  good 
woman  had  anything  to  do  for  her.  Since  not  only  did 
Mrs.  Heriot  never,  by  any  chance,  hurry — but  it  seemed  to 
be  one  of  her  inflexible  rules  to  be  late  on  any  such  oc- 
casion. 

Nan,  in  a  pretty  new  gingham,  with  her  new  summer 
hat  and  a  parasol,  was  waiting  half  an  hour  before  Mrs. 
Heriot  came  slowly  along  the  hall,  looking  very  warm  in  a 
red  shawl  and  a  bonnet  covered  with  flowers  and  feathers. 

Nan  could  hardly  walk  down  College  Street  any  more 
composedly  than  the  twins  had  on  their  visit.  But  it  was 
not  raining  to-day ;  the  sky  was  bright  and  blue,  the  air 
delicious,  and  in  the  gardens  which  they  passed  were  all 
manner  of  spring  blossoms ;  the  lilacs  seemed  to  nod  their 
heads  at  Nan  over  the  walls,  and  the  syringas  were,  she 
thought,  like  big,  white  "  day-time  "  stars. 

Kolf  House  was  at  one  end  of  a  hilly  street,  and  all  along 


88  Nan. 

going  down  towards  the  seaside  part  of  the  town,  were  fine, 
old-fashioned  houses,  with  gardens  and  box-walks,  and  the 
look  of  old-time  comfort  which  one  sees  in  comfortable 
New  England  towns.  Nan  thought  she  would  like  to  see 
inside  some  of  the  houses  she  passed,  they  looked  so  well 
kept  and  contented.  Sometimes  young  faces  appeared  in 
the  windows,  and  then  Nan  always  said,  "  Mrs.  Heriot,  who 
lives  there?"  And  Mrs.  Heriot  would  cough  significantly, 
look  around,  and  give  the  names  with  bits  of  their  family 
history.  Some  of  the  names  impressed  Nan  very  strongly, 
because  of  the  young  people  in  the  windows.  In  one  small, 
dreary-looking  house,  she  saw  the  face  of  a  little  boy,  evi- 
dently an  invalid.  He  leaned  against  the  window  and 
pulled  the  tassel  of  the  curtain  with  a  thin,  restless  hand, 
while  his  sad  eyes  looked  out  upon  the  street,  seeming  to 
Nan  to  say  how  he  longed  to  be  there. 

"  That  is  Captain  Hand's  house,"  Mrs.  Heriot  explained, 
"and  that  boy  is  his  grandson.  He's  had  spine  disease 
for  years."  Nan  fancied  the  poor  little  fellow  smiled  at  her 
as  she  looked  up  with  a  sweet,  compassionate  glance.  She 
determined  to  ask  Joan  whether  she  knew  him,  and  if  they 
couldn't  try  to  amuse  him. 

Below  this  long,  irregular  street  lay  the  business  part  of 
the  town  and  the  shipping-places;  but  a  river  intersected 
the  city  and  skirted  along  around  back  of  College  Street, 


Nan.  89 

and  Nan  remembered,  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  that  Joan 
had  talked  of  a  boat  all  their  own  !  Nan  had  a  love  of  out- 
door sports,  which  dominated,  I  fear,  even  her  desire  to  be 
practical  and  well-educated.  She  had  learned  to  row  and 
to  skate  and  to  coast,  and  even  to  play  ball,  during  her 
Bromfield  life,  and  her  secret  desire  at  present  was  for  a 
horse  and  a  dog  of  her  own.  Mrs.  Heriot  took  a  short 
turning  to  the  right,  where  the  trees  seemed  to  be  closer 
and  the  street  more  countrified ;  at  its  upper  end  were  the 
colleges — large,  red,  brick  buildings,  with  the  shade  of  many 
elms.  Nan  had  no  interest  in  them,  however ;  she  wanted 
to  see  Cousin  Phyllis's  home. 

It  was  a  large,  though  somewhat  shabby,  frame  house, 
with  a  wing  in  which  was  a  long,  two-storied  balcony.  It 
stood  back  from  the  road,  and  had  a  wandering  garden  and 
lawn  in  front,  and  a  porch  with  tall  pillars,  on  which,  as 
Nan  and  Mrs.  Heriot  appeared,  the  tribe  of  cousins  were 
disporting  themselves.  Joan  was  busy  on  some  fishing- 
lines,  an  operation  which  Dicksie  was  critically  regarding, 
kneeling  on  the  step  below  her;  Alfred  and  Bertie  were 
marching  up  and  down  in  a  regimental  manner;  and 
Laura  was  working  just  within  the  wide  open  door.  The 
hall  ran  through  the  house,  with  wide  doors  at  either  end. 
Nan  saw  a  big,  straggling  garden  beyond,  and  had  a  glimpse 
of  the  river.  Cousin  Phyllis,  in  a  fresh  muslin  dress  and 
pretty  blue  ribbons,  was  standing  on  the  back-steps. 


go  Nan. 

The  cousins  greeted  Nan  tumultuously,  except  Laura, 
who,  of  course,  was  more  dignified  in  her  method  of  wel- 
come. Mrs.  Heriot  went  out  to  speak  to  Miss  Phyllis,  and 
Joan  immediately  laid  hold  of  Nan. 

"  Now !"  exclaimed  Alfred,  "  what  are  we  to  do  ?  what 
would  you  like  to  do,  Nan  ?" 

" Oh,  anything"  said  beaming  Nan. 

Joan  pondered ;  then  she  said,  looking  very  earnestly  at 
the  rest,  "  Shall  we  show  her  the  theatre  first  ?" 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Dick. 

And,  laying  aside  her  gloves  and  parasol,  Nan  gladly  al- 
lowed herself  to  be  taken  around  the  house  and  down  tow- 
ards the  stables.  There  was  here  an  old,  unused  carriage- 
house,  and  Joan,  as  they  went,  explained  that  their  father 
had  allowed  them  to  make  use  of  it  for  some  theatricals 
they  were  getting  up  as  a  surprise  for  Phyllis's  birthday. 
It  was  Joan  who  did  the  talking,  but  here  Laura  seemed  to 
have  been  the  manager,  or  organizer,  of  the  enterprise,  and 
she  said,  rather  coldly,  to  Nan, 

"  Don't  you  want  to  take  one  of  the  parts,  Nan  ?" 

"  Yes,  please,  if  Aunt  Letty  says  I  may." 

"  Oh !"  cried  Joan,  "  can't  she  be  the  Captive,  Laura  ?" 
And  she  added  quickly,  "  You  see  Laura  wrote  the  play  all 
herself,  and  it's  perfectly  beautiful!" 

Laura  looked  rather  pleased  by  this,  and  she  said  perhaps 


THE  "THEATRE." 


Nan.  91 

Nan  could  be  the  Captive.  The  carriage -house  consisted 
of  one  large  room,  with  a  sort  of  framework  of  a  partition 
at  one  side,  which  they  intended  to  curtain,  and  at  the  back 
were  two  big  windows,  which  with  care  might  be  used  as 
exits.  Indeed,  the  amusement  to  be  derived  from  them 
seemed  to  appeal  more  than  anything  else  to  the  boys,  who 
immediately  began  tumbling  in  and  out  of  them,  Alfred's 
facility  for  putting  his  heels  in  the  air  coming  in  most 
usefully. 

Laura  showed  Nan  how  they  meant  to  divide  the  audi- 
ence from  the  stage.  It  could  readily  be  done — "  but !"  she 
sighed,  " if  only  Lance  were  home,  he  would  do  it  all" 

And,  singular  to  say,  at  this  moment  arose  a  shout  from 
the  twins,  who  were  just  .outside  the  door : 

"  Lance !  Lance !  here  he  is !" 

And  there  was  a  general  scramble  towards  the  house. 
Sure  enough,  it  was  Lance  himself,  though  what  had  brought 
him  home  before  vacation  no  one  could  imagine ;  but  there 
he  was  striding  across  the  garden,  Joan  and  Dicksie  clutch- 
ing him  violently,  and  Alfred  performing  his  wildest  antics 
near  his  heels. 

Nan  felt  as  if  old  Bromfield  days  had  suddenly  come 
back.  She  saw  the  store,  the  streets,  Mrs.  Grange's  house, 
and  the  first  glimpses  of  her  new  life.  She  drew  back,  al- 
most wondering  if  Lance  remembered  her ;  but  there  was 


92  Nan. 

no  doubt  in  her  rnind  a  moment  later,  for  Lance,  with  his 
bright  smile  and  pleasant  voice,  had  come  up  and  grasped 
her  hand  affectionately. 

"  "Well,  how  are  you,  little  Nan  ?"  he  said,  cheerily,  and 
Nan  laughed  and  dimpled  gayly.  She  made  one  of  the 
group  about  him,  while  Lance  told  how  illness  had  broken 
out  in  the  school,  and  the  boys  had  all  suddenly  to  be  dis- 
missed. 

"Well,"  remarked  Joan,  "if  it  wasn't  perfectly  killing 
kind  of  illness,  I  must  say  I'm  glad ;  and  oh,  Lance,  Lance, 
Lance !  you're  just  in  time !" 

"  There's  always  something  to  be  in  time  for  with  you, 
Joan,"  laughed  Lance,  pinching  his  little  sister's  ear  softly. 
"What  is  it  now?" 

"  Oh,  it's  Laura's  play,"  whispered  Joan.  "  It's  to  be  a 
surprise  for  Phyl's  birthday." 

"  Is  there  a  very  sanguinary  part  for  me,  Lollie  ?"  said 
Lance.  "  Remember  the  last  time  I  killed  every  one  beau- 
tifully." 

Laura  colored  and  bit  her  lip.  "If  you  are  going  to 
make  fun  of  it,  Lance,"  she  began. 

"  But  I've  no  such  idea,"  he  said,  good-humoredly.  "  Now 
when  I  can  get  something  to  eat,  I'd  like  to  hear  more  of 
it.  I  feel  a  raving  craving  within  me." 

Alfred's  eyes  grew  big.     "  There's  a  whole  row  of  pies 


Nan.  93 

cooling  down  -  stairs,"  he  said,  "and  doughnuts;  I  saw 
them !" 

"  And  The  Great  didn't  eat  any  of  them  ?" 

"  Didn't  he  f"  said  Joan,  with  her  mouth  curled  almost 
out  of  sight.  "  He  just  went  for  them" 

Lance  laughed  heartily,  and  they  all  turned  back  to  the 
house,  where  Mr.  Rolf  stood  waiting  to  see  his  son,  and 
Phyllis  was  bustling  about  in  the  dining-room,  preparing 
an  impromptu  sort  of  dinner  for  her  favorite  brother. 

Nan  followed  Joan  into  the  dining-room.  She  was 
greatly  interested  in  seeing  anything  about  the  house,  and 
almost  directly  the  influence  of  Cousin  Phyllis's  pretty, 
dainty  taste  had  reached  her.  The  dining-room  was  a  large 
one,  and  full  of  sunshine  and  flowers ;  it  seemed  to  Nan, 
and  it  looked  very  plainly,  the  sort  of  room  in  which  a  large, 
merry  family  of  young  people  would  like  to  eat  their  meals. 
Phyllis  might  look  to  Nan  a  very  grand  young  lady,  but 
she  was  evidently  not  above  setting  the  table,  and  arrang- 
ing the  little  dinner  which  Martha,  the  house-maid,  brought 
in  on  a  tray ;  and  between  whiles  Nan  saw  her  dust  one  or 
two  places  on  the  sideboard,  and  put  things  straight  here 
and  there,  quite  with  the  air  of  a  person  accustomed  to  per- 
forming such  household  duties. 

"  Why,"  pondered  Nan,  as  she  stood  in  one  of  the  win- 
dows— "why  had  Phyllis  seemed  so  fine  a  lady  in  Brom- 


94 


Nan. 


field,  so  anxious  to  cut  Nan  adrift  from  her  step-aunt's  fam- 
ily ?"  Had  the  girl  been  a  little  older  and  wiser  she  would 
have  understood  it  better,  or  have  been  able  to  make  clearer 
distinctions.  Phyllis's  one  point  of  intensest  pride  was 
family.  To  her  it  was  everything  that  she  was  a  Miss 
Rolf  of  Beverley.  She  knew  better  than  the  others  how 
many  times  they  had  had  to  pinch  and  save,  and  turn  here 
and  there  to  keep  up  what  she  called  "  appearances ;"  but, 
at  all  events,  nothing  "  vulgar  "  had  ever  come  near  them. 
Did  she,  I  wonder,  think  it  more  honorable  to  be  a  "  Rolf," 
and  often  owe  the  butcher  and  the  baker,  than  to  have  been 
a  plain  somebody  or  nobody,  who  knew  not  the  dishonor 
of  debt? 

Lance  professed  himself  well  satisfied  with  his  dinner,  and 
he  sat  down  between  Phyllis  and  Laura,  and  talked  eager- 
ly; the  younger  members  of  the  family  sitting  on  the 
ledges  of  the  windows  and  looking  on  admiringly,  Nan 
close  to  Joan,  who  kept  up  a  little  whispered  murmur  about 
the  play. 

By  this  time  Nan  knew  its  plot.  It  was  as  follows :  A 
person,  called  simply  a  "Knight,"  takes  captive  a  young 
person  who  speaks  an  unknown  tongue.  He  brings  her  to 
his  people,  among  whom  is  a  Magician  who  alone  can  un- 
derstand her.  To  him  she  tells  her  sad  history,  how  she 
is  a  princess  of  the  "  Gondulfo  tribe ;"  and,  to  prove  it,  she 


Nan.  95 

calls  upon  the  magician  to  light  up  his  lamp,  and  rub  a 
certain  ring  she  wears,  and  he  can  see  her  family.  These 
personages  appear,  one  after  another,  at  the  back  of  the 
stage.  The  Magician  recognizes  among  them  his  own  long- 
lost  nephew,  the  princess's  brother,  and  as  the  spirits  vanish 
he  cries  out, "  You  are  then  my  niece,  Artemisia  Gondulfo." 
She  admits  that  she  is ;  the  Knight  appears ;  a  general  un- 
derstanding follows,  and  the  Magician  pours  upon  Artemi- 
sia the  wealth  he  has  gathered  for  years,  while  she  marries 
the  Knight,  who  leads  her  back  to  the  Gondulfos  with  re- 
joicing. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  whispered  Nan,  "  that  perhaps  the 
people  will  want  to  know  where  the  princess  came  from  ?" 

Joan  looked  really  troubled.  "  Now,  see  here,  Nan,"  she 
said,  as  serenely  as  she  could, "  I  can  just  see  how  you  are 
always  going  to  take  things :  you  want  them  so — illiterate ;" 
Joan  stammered,  and  added,  "No,  I  don't  mean  exactly 
that ;  I  mean  literal.  Did  you  ever  hear  people  in  a  real 
theatre,  for  instance,  stand  up  and  ask  questions  ?" 

Nan  found  she  knew  of  no  such  occasion ;  but  she  had 
only  twice  been  in  a  real  theatre.  She  added : 

"Oh,  dear!"  said  Joan,  "I  don't  mind  telling  you  a 
secret,  Nan :  I  think,  when  I'm  older,  I  shall  be  an  actoress" 

"  Oh,  Joan  1"  came  from  Nan,  in  a  dismayed  undertone. 

"  Well,  I  think  so"  said  Joan,  looking  very  grave.  And 

8 


96  Nan. 

Nan  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  most  horrified  or  awe- 
struck. 

But  just  now  Joan  had  other  things  to  think  of.  While 
Lance  was  finishing  his  dinner,  she  suggested  taking  Nan 
up  to  the  room  she  shared  with  Laura ;  and  the  two  went 
out  up  the  stairs  to  a  breezy  bedroom,  which  at  once  showed 
that  two  people  with  very  different  tastes  or  ideas  occupied 
it.  One  side  plainly  showed  Laura's  finical,  sentimental 
sort  of  fancies;  the  other  Joan's  restless,  careless,  active 
spirit.  There  were  two  little  iron  beds ;  the  floor  was  cov- 
ered with  a  bright-flowered  carpet,  and  the  walls  were  full 
of  pictures ;  some,  it  is  true,  only  cuts  from  illustrated  pa- 
pers, but  all  well  selected.  There  were  dormer  windows, 
and  in  one  a  cage  with  two  canaries.  Joan  displayed  her 
special  treasures  to  Nan,  sitting  on  the  floor  before  an  old 
trunk,  in  which  were  some  dolls'  clothes,  some  bits  of  finery 
saved  for  theatricals,  and  which  Joan  called  "  properties," 
and  various  books  and  shells,  and  even  some  minerals. 

"  Oh,  Joan  !"  exclaimed  Nan,  "  I  wish  you  knew  Philip !" 
The  sight  of  the  minerals  brought  back  the  crowded  little 
parlor  in  Bromfield,  where,  perhaps,  even  now  Philip  was 
busy  among  his  precious  belongings. 

Joan  looked  up,  her  gray  eyes  widely  open. 

"  "Who's  Philip  ?"  she  said,,  in  a  way  Nan  would  have 
thought  brusque  or  rough  before  she  knew  how  loving 
Joan's  heart  really  was. 


Nan.  97 

Nan  told  her  all  about  Philip,  and  something  of  Marian. 
The  two  girls  decided  they  would  ask  Phyllis  or  Aunt 
Letty  if  Nan  might  not  write  to  Philip.  Joan  entered 
very  heartily  into  this  idea,  and  it  produced  so  many  puck- 
erings  of  her  nose  and  mouth,  that  finally  Nan  burst  out 
into  an  irrepressible  laugh. 

"  Oh,  Joan !"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  do  draw  up  your  face 
so  funnily !" 

"Yes,"  said  good-humored  Joan,  laughing  with  Nan, 
"  don't  I"  She  jumped  up  and  went  over  to  the  looking- 
glass,  where  she  scrutinized  her  thin  little  face  very  care- 
fully. "  See  here,  Nan,"  she  said,  turning  round, "  just  see 
how  my  flesh  hangs."  She  pulled  at  her  cheeks,  and  made 
various  other  demonstrations  of  the  kind.  "Papa  says  I 
must  fill  out,  or  I'll  be  so  ugly  " — here  Joan  made  her  very 
worst  pucker — "  that  no  one  will  be  able  to  look  at  me  with- 
out— well,  nearly  fainting  away." 

Nan  laughed  again  until  the  tears  streamed  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  Joan,"  she  said,  sobering  finally,  "  I'll  promise  to  love 
you  always." 

But  Joan  only  stood  still,  shaking  her  head  solemnly. 

"  Are  yon  sure,  Nan  ?"  she  answered. 

"  Perfectly  sure,"  said  Nan ;  and  upon  this  Joan  dived 
into  her  little  trunk  and  produced  a  small  note-book. 


98  Nan. 

"  Let's  write  it  down,"  she  said,  very  earnestly ;  "  What's 
the  day  of  the  month  ?" 

Nan  said  it  was  May  29th ;  so  Joan  entered  the  date,  and 
underneath  it  wrote:  "Annice  and  Joan  Kolf  this  day  de- 
cide to  be  perfectly  true  friends.  They  will  never  let  any- 
thing separate  them." 

"  Now,"  said  Joan,  "  let  us  each  sign  it ;  but  Annice — or 
Nan — first  we  ought  to  do  something  a  little  solemn  ;  throw 
beans  over  our  heads,  or  something  like  that." 

Nan  hesitated,  and  her  face  flushed.  "  Joan,"  she  said, 
quietly, "  I  don't  think  that  is  half  so  solemn  —  as  —  as  — 
something — like  a  little — kind  of  a  prayer." 

Joan  looked  a  trifle  puzzled ;  "  Well,"  she  asserted. 

Nan  took  her  cousin's  hand  very  firmly. 

"Suppose,"  she  said,  "we  say  —  together  —  God  bless 
this." 

Nan  could  think  of  nothing  more  elaborate ;  but  the  two 
children,  standing,  together  signed  their  names  to  the  queer 
little  compact,  and  then  together  said — not  knowing  half 
how  solemn  it  really  was — "God  bless  this" 

For  a  moment  or  two  they  did  not  speak ;  but  when  the 
tea-bell  rang  they  went  down -stairs  very  merrily — on  the 
last  flight,  indeed,  Joan  showed  Nan  how  to  slide  down  on 
the  banisters,  a  performance  Alfred  and  Dicksie  greeted 
with  cheers  from  the  porch  below. 


Nan.  99 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

NAN  awoke  early  the  next  morning.  A  stream  of  light 
flooded  her  room ;  everything  looked  bright  and  inspiring, 
and  the  little  girl  ran  down-stairs,  gayly  humming  one  of 
Bertie  Rolf's  songs. 

It  was  Saturday;  except  for  the  exercises  to  be  rewritten, 
there  would  be  no  work ;  and  above  all  reasons  for  joy  was 
the  fact  that  Lance  had  promised  to  come  and  take  Nan  and 
Joan  out  in  his  boat.  Aunt  Letitia's  consent  was  given. 
Nan  needed  nothing  further,  she  believed,  in  the  way  of 
enjoyment,  since  the  sun  had  chosen  to  shine  out  so  gayly, 
and  she  felt  so  happy  since  yesterday,  when  Aunt  Letty  had 
folded  her  in  her  arms  and  let  her  cry  imrestrained  on  her 
shoulder. 

"Where  is  Lance  going  to  take  you,  An  nice?"  her  aunt 
asked,  while  they  were  at  breakfast. 

But  Nan  could  not  say ;  and  just  then  Lance  himself  ap- 
peared in  a  regular  flannel  boating-suit. 

"  But  where  is  Joan  ?"  Nan  asked. 

"She  had  a  cold,"  said  Lance,  "  and  Phyllis  wouldn't  heat 


ioo  Nan. 

of  her  coming."  The  boy  seemed  to  feel  thoroughly  at 
home.  He  sat  down  at  the  end  of  the  table  and  asked 
Kobert  for  a  glass  of  water,  while  Miss  Kolfe  offered  him  a 
cutlet  and  some  cakes. 

"  No,  thank  you,  Cousin  Letty,"  said  Lance ;  "  I've  had 
my  breakfast.  How  soon  can  Annice  be  ready  ?" 

Nan  commenced  hurrying  every  mouthful,  until  she 
caught  a  stern  look  from  her  aunt. 

"  She  can't  go  for  half  an  hour  after  breakfast,"  said  the 
old  lady.  "  Do  you  think  me  crazy,  Lancelot  ?  The  idea 
of  any  one's  taking  violent  exercise  directly  after  eating !" 

This  settled  it ;  although  a  little  defiant  look  came  be- 
tween Lance's  well-marked  eyebrows  and  around  the  curves 
of  his  handsome  mouth.  Nan  felt  a  trifle  afraid  that  per- 
haps Lance  was  high-tempered.  Certainly  he  looked  now 
as  though  he  was  not  always  the  laughing  idol  of  the  family 
he  had  seemed  to  be  yesterday. 

Breakfast  was  finished  at  last,  and  Lance  followed  Miss 
Rolf  and  Nan  out  into  the  garden,  where  the  old  lady  saun- 
tered about  among  her  rose-bushes,  and  Nan  kept  her  gaze 
almost  fixed  upon  the  town-clock,  the  face  of  which  she 
could  see  gleaming  through  the  trees. 

Mrs.  Heriot  appeared  at  a  side  door  to  say  a  word  of  wel- 
come to  Lance,  whose  face  brightened  visibly,  and  Nan  saw 
what  a  favorite  he  was  with  this  old  servant.  Then,  at  last, 


Nau.  101 

with  what  seemed  aggravating  slowness,  the  hands  of  the 
clock  moved  around  to  nine  o'clock.  The  half-hour  was  over ! 
Nan  gave  a  little  skip,  and  darted  in  for  her  shade-hat  and 
her  gloves,  and  in  a  few  moments  more,  after  many  injunc- 
tions from  Aunt  Letty,  she  was,  with  Lance,  going  across 
fields  at  the  back  of  the  house  to  the  river. 

Almost  at  once  Lance  said :  "  Nan,  your  cousin  Philip  is 
at  our  school." 

"  What  ?"  ejaculated  Nan. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lance.  "  He  came  last  week,  and  I  must  say 
he  passed  very  well ;  and  it's  a  shame  we  had  to  break  up 
so  soon." 

"  But,  Lance,"  said  Nan,  with  a  very  serious  face,  "  isn't 
yours  a  very  expensive  school  ?" 

"Of  course  —  but"  —  Lance  shrugged  his  broad  young 
shoulders — "  there  he  is — that's  all  I  know." 

Nan  remained  wonderingly  silent,  but  of  course  she  felt 
full  of  delight,  well  knowing  how  very  much  Philip  had 
desired  the  means  of  a  thorough  classical  education. 
"What  the  Bromfield  public  school  afforded  him  had  never 
half  satisfied  the  lad's  yearnings.  But  now  he  could  do 
what  he  chose !  Nan  gave  Lance's  hand  a  happy  squeeze. 

"I'm  so  glad,"  she  said,  earnestly.  Lance  nodded,  as 
much  as  to  say  he  appreciated  her  feelings,  and  in  a  few 
moments  they  were  by  the  river-bank,  where  Lance's  boat 


iO2  Nan. 

was  moored.  It  was  a  light  little  boat,  with  nice  cushions 
and  a  fine  pair  of  oars.  Lance  seated  Nan  comfortably,  and 
asked  her  if  she  knew  how  to  steer,  and  then  they  pushed 
off.  The  boat  was  named  the  Phyllis,  and  this  made  Nan 
say: 

"  Lance,  isn't  Cousin  Phyllis  very  good  to  you  all  ?  * 

Lance  smiled.  "I  think  she  is"  he  said,  heartily; 
"  you  see  mother  died  when  Bertie  was  only  four,  and  since 
then  Phil  has  had  it  all  to  see  to ;  she  never  thinks  of  her- 
self!" 

Nan  was  not  entirely  of  Lance's  opinion,  but  she  said 
presently : 

"Lance,  what  do  you  think  it  means  really  not  to  think 
of  yourself?" 

"Not  to  think  of  yourself?"  Lance  looked  across  the 
river,  while  he  rowed,  with  a  wondering  expression.  "  Well, 
Nan,"  he  said,  in  a  moment,  "I  suppose  it  means  being 
thoughtful  about  other  people." 

"  Well,  not  only  that,"  said  Nan,  earnestly ;  "  it  must 
mean — to  know  and  understand  yourself,  but  to  care  more 
for  other  people's  happiness." 

Lance  pulled  one  or  two  very  good  strokes  before  he 
spoke ;  then  he  said,  gravely : 

"  Yes,  Nan,  I  believe  that  must  be  it.  You  see,  you  girls 
have  a  sort  of  an  easy  time  of  it,  but  boys  always  have  to 


Nan.  103 

rough  things,  and  to  do  for  themselves.  I  don't  know 
how  it  is,  we  never  get  a  real  out-and-out  chance  at  being 
good." 

Nan  opened  her  hazel  eyes  widely.  "Lance,"  she  ex- 
claimed, "  I  do  think  you  are  wrong !  You  can  say,  if  you 
like,  that  boys  have  more  to  fight  out ;  but  I'm  sure  girls 
have  things,  too,  that  are  just,  just  as  hard ;  and,  although 
I'm  glad  to  be  a  girl,  sometimes  I  feel  shut  in  by  it." 

"  What  would  you  do  if  you  were  a  boy,  Nan  ?"  Lance 
asked,  smiling.  "Come,  now;  perhaps  you  can  do  it  as 
it  is." 

"  Well,"  said  Nan,  slowly,  "  I  think  I'd  like  to  go  about 
among  poor,  rough  boys,  for  one  thing,  and  help  them." 

"  And  get  your  head  well  punched  for  you." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  mean  to  try  and  make  them  know  better — 
to  be  one  with  them.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  do  something 
worth  while  that  way ;  but,  Lance,  I  want  to  confide  some- 
thing to  you,"  added  Nan,  very  seriously. 

"All  right — I  won't  tell;"  the  boy's  dark  young  face 
softened  as  he  looked  at  the  little  girl  before  him,  with  her 
sweet,  serious,  earnest  air. 

"  Well,  then — I'm  afraid  I'll  never  be  much  of  a  credit 
to  Aunt  Letitia  as  a  scholar,  Lance.  Whatever  the  reason 
1<3, 1  don't  care  for  study." 

"  But  you  think  you  might  be  worth  something  else  ?" 


IO4  Nan. 

"  Tes,  that  is  it.  Oh,  Lance,  how  kind  you  are !"  said  Nan ; 
"  you  understand  it  all  so  quickly." 

"  What  do  you  think  of,  then,  Nan,  when  you  find  you 
don't  care  for  study  ?  Still,  I  shouldn't  call  you  downright 
stupid." 

"  Oh,  yes !"  Nan  averred,  shaking  her  head  solemnly ;  "  all 
the  Miss  Priors  and  the  Miss  Joneses  in  the  world  never 
could  make  me  what  Miss  Prior  calls  lyrillicmt.  Don't  you 
suppose  I  know  it  well  enough  ?  You  see  at  Uncle  Rupert's 
nobody  cared;  but  here  I've  made  so  much  more  of  an 
effort — and — it's  no  use;  but  I  think  about  doing  some- 
thing very  busy  and  very  useful.  You  see,  I  do  understand 
more  about  poor  people  than  rich." 

Lance  looked  at  his  little  cousin  with  more  respect  than 
if  she  had  been  construing  Yirgil  by  the  page. 

"  Nan,"  he  said,  leaning  forward  and  speaking  impress- 
ively, "do  you  stick  to  that,  then.  Don't  give  up  your 
books — why  should  you  ? — but  don't  bother  your  poor  little 
head  trying  to  be  brilliant  over  them.  Now,  see  here,  do 
you  want  to  go  and  see  an  old  boat-builder  I  know  ?" 

Nan  professed  herself  only  too  delighted.  Lance  rowed 
on.  The  river  ran  very  wide  just  here,  and  Nan  many 
years  later  remembered  just  that  moment — the  look  of  the 
clearly  flowing  water,  the  May  sky,  Lance's  strong  young 
figure,  and,  above  all,  the  sort  of  strength  the  boy's  words 


Nan.  105 

had  given  her.  She  felt  more  hopeful  than  she  had  thought 
it  possible  ever  to  be  the  day  before. 

The  boat-builder's  workshop  was  a  roomy  though  rather 
dilapidated  building,  near  the  water's  edge,  just  above  a  lit- 
tle bank  of  tangled  greens.  He  kept  a  dozen  boats  for  hire, 
and  these  were  rocking  gently  near  the  shore.  When  Lance 
pulled  up  and  helped  Nan  out,  the  boatman  came  to  the 
doorway  of  his  workshop  and  nodded  pleasantly.  He  was 
a  tall,  grizzled  old  man,  with  a  face  full  of  puckers,  some  of 
which  seemed  to  have  gotten  there  by  laughing. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Blake  ?"  said  Lance,  pleasantly. 
"  May  I  bring  my  little  cousin  in  to  see  the  boat  you're 
building?" 

"  Certain,  certain,"  said  the  old  man,  and  he  turned 
around  and  led  the  way  into  the  shop,  where  a  long  scull 
was  turned  upside  down  on  trestles,  and  which  Lance  ex- 
amined with  delight,  for  he  had  all  a  young  collegian's 
enthusiasm  for  boating.  Nan  looked  on,  interested  in  the 
conversation  which  went  back  and  forth  rapidly  between 
Lance  and  the  old  man.  Then  she  sauntered  back  to  the 
river  door,  where  she  was  suddenly  attracted  by  the  sight 
of  a  very  ragged  little  boy. 

He  was  a  child  apparently  nine  or  ten  years  of  age,  and 
his  face  was  pinched  and  pitiably  haggard.  He  stood  very 
still  near  Lance's  boat,  from  which  he  now  glanced  up  tim- 
idly at  Nan  in  the  shop-door. 


io6  Nan. 

"  Please,"  he  said,  in  a  tired  sort  of  voice,  "  is  there  any 
job  about  I  could  get  ?" 

"  Oh !"  said  Nan,  quickly ;  her  heart  was  impulsively  full 
of  compassion.  She  ran  down  nearer  to  the  little  boy, 
who  suddenly  turned  whiter  than  before,  and  staggered 
against  one  of  the  posts  of  the  small  pier. 

"  Lance !"  cried  Nan,  so  eagerly  that  her  cousin  darted 
out,  and,  with  one  glance  and  a  "By  George!"  under  his 
breath,  he  caught  the  boy's  now  fainting  figure. 

Mr.  Blake  was  soon  with  them ;  and  after  they  had  revived 
the  boy  so  that  he  languidly  opened  his  eyes,  the  boatman 
said,  "  It's  hunger  has  done  it.  Poor  little  chap,  we'll  settle 
that.  Come,  my  lad,  can  ye  get  as  fur  as  my  house  1"  And 
he  jerked  his  head  to  the  right  of  the  workshop. 

But  the  poor  little  fellow  only  laid  his  head  back  wearily 
against  Lance's  shoulder,  and  the  latter  said, 

"  I'll  carry  him,  Blake — he's  as  light  as  a  feather." 

So  they  made  a  procession  quietly  through  the  workshop 
and  out  across  a  bit  of  roadway,  to  where  Blake's  cosy, 
old-fashioned  white  cottage  was  standing.  The  box  walks 
smelt  pleasantly,  and  the  lilac  bushes  were  in  profusion 
near  the  door ;  but,  for  all  the  cool  sweetness  of  things,  the 
poor  little  boy  showed  no  interest  in  what  was  being  done 
for  or  with  him.  Lance,  followed  by  Nan,  carried  the  child 
into  the  little  parlor,  the  door  of  which  Blake  opened 


LANCE.  FOLLOWED  BY  NAN,  CARRIED  THE  CHILD." 


Nan.  107 

quietly,  after  which  he  turned  and  called  down  the  passage, 
"  Love !" 

"  Yes,  father,"  came  back  in  cheery  tones  from  the  kitch- 
en, and  a  bright-faced,  tidy  young  girl  of  about  fifteen  ap- 
peared. 

Her  father  made  her  understand  very  quickly  what  had 
happened,  Nan  thought — for  she  was  up-stairs  and  down 
again  in  a  moment  with  a  pillow  and  a  shawl,  and  helped 
Lance  very  skilfully,  as  he  laid  the  boy  on  the  horse-hair 
sofa;  and  in  another  moment  she  was  back  again  with  a 
glass  of  milk,  with  just  a  "  trifle  of  wine  in  it,"  she  said, 
and  a  fresh-looking  roll,  which  would  have  tempted  any 
one.  But,  half-dead  though  he  was  of  starvation,  it  seemed 
hard  for  the  boy  to  eat.  He  swallowed  a  few  mouthfuls, 
and  then  closed  his  eyes  exhaustedly.  Blake  was  question- 
ing him,  when  his  daughter,  in  her  gentle,  motherly  way, 
lifted  a  hand,  and  said, 

"  Not  now,  father ;  wait  a  little.    He  must  rest  first." 

And  Nan  thought  she  had  never  heard  a  sweeter  voice. 
It  was  girlish  and  soft,  but  it  had  in  it  such  womanly  tones 
that  one  wondered  at  her  youth — for  she  was  plainly  not 
older  than  Lance — indeed,  the  curve  of  her  cheek  was  very 
childish,  and  her  eyes,  though  they  were  quiet,  motherly 
eyes  as  they  looked  at  the  poor  boy,  had  the  peculiar  sweet- 
ness and  innocence  of  a  child. 


io8  Nan. 

"  Shall  I  go  for  a  doctor,  Love  ?"  Blake  asked.  He  seemed 
to  be  full  of  respect  for  his  little  maiden. 

"  Well,  yes,  father,  perhaps  you  had  better,"  she  said, 
carefully. 

"  I'll  go,"  suggested  Lance. 

And  then  Nan  said,  almost  in  Love's  ear,  "  Can  I  do  any- 
thing?" 

Love  nodded.  "Yes,"  she  said,  "supposing  you  were 
not  to  mind  helping  me  get  a  better  place  ready  for  him." 

Nan  looked  her  pleasure,  and  Love  added, 

"  Father,  will  you  sit  here  ?    Now  come  with  me,  please." 

Nan  liked  her  gentle  authoritative  ways  very  much.  She 
followed  the  little  mistress  of  the  house  up-stairs,  and  into  a 
cool,  clean  room,  evidently  kept  for  company ;  for,  although 
the  white  curtains  were  fresh  in  the  windows,  the  bed  was 
only  covered  over  with  pink  netting. 

"  Love,"  as  Nan  called  her  in  her  mind,  took  out  her  keys 
and  opened  the  drawers  of  the  old-fashioned  bureau,  from 
which  she  took  some  lavender-scented  sheets  and  pillow- 
cases and  a  snowy  counterpane,  and,  with  no  apologies,  she 
allowed  Nan  to  help  her  make  up  the  bed. 

"  Aren't  you  Miss  Rolf's  niece  ?"  she  said,  smiling  at  Nan 
across  the  sheet  they  were  tucking  in. 

"  Yes,"  said  Nan ;  "  and  do  you  keep  house  here  all  alone 
with  your  father  ?  and  is  your  name  really  Love  ?" 


Nan.  1 09 

The  young  girl  laughed.  "  Oh,"  she  said,  "  that's  always 
been  father's  name  for  me.  My  name  is  really  Margaret. 
Yes,  I  keep  house  for  father;  mother  is  an  invalid,  she 
never  comes  down-stairs.  There!  for  a  young  lady,  you 
did  very  well." 

Nan  was  about  to  say  she  had  done  housework  for  two 
years  past,  but  checked  herself  as  Margaret  Blake  ex- 
claimed : 

"  There  is  the  doctor.     Young  Mr.  Rolf  was  quick." 

The  two  girls  went  down-stairs,  and  found  a  young  doctor 
bending  over  the  boy,  who  certainly  looked  a  little  better. 
When  Margaret  told  of  her  preparations  up-stairs,  the  doc- 
tor said  he  had  better  have  a  warm  bath  and  be  put  to 
bed  ;  "  that  is,"  he  wras  beginning,  "  if— 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Love,  cheerily,  "  of  course  we'll  keep  him 
here  awhile,  any  way." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  languid  little  figure  was  lying 
comfortably  in  the  sweet-smelling  bed  up-stairs,  and  his  new 
friends  had  been  able  to  learn  something  of  his  history. 

He  had  come,  he  said,  with  his  mother  a  long  way — they 
had  walked  it  nearly  all.  Since  father  had  died,  and 
mother  had  been  so  ill,  they  had  nearly  starved;  but  they 
had  come  here  to  see  the  manager  of  the  Beverley  theatre, 
hoping  mother  could  get  something  to  do. 

"  Had  she  been  on  the  stage  ?"  the  doctor  asked. 


no  Nan. 

"Oh,  yes,"  the  boy  said,  "and  she  heard  the  manager 
here  had  known  father." 

"  And  where  is  she  now,  my  boy  ?" 

"  Oh,  she's  down  at  the  theatre,  sir,  waiting  to  see  Mr. 
Burton.  There's  a  matinee  going  on.  I  just  came  along 
the  river  to  see  if  I  couldn't  get  an  odd  job." 

Nan  listened  with  growing  fascination.  What  would 
Joan  say  to  this !  and  how  more  than  ever  awe-struck  was 
she  when  the  doctor  said  : 

"  Then  I'll  go  down  to  the  theatre  and  find  her.  And, 
Lance,"  he  added, "  will  you  come  ?  I  may  need  you." 

Lance  was  almost  as  delighted  by  the  novelty  of  the  idea 
as  Nan  had  been  ;  for,  like  all  young  people,  a  theatre,  and, 
above  all,  "  behind  the  scenes,"  seemed  to  him  the  most  fasci- 
nating and  mysterious  of  all  places.  He  needed  no  second 
bidding,  and,  promising  Nan  that  he  would  send  word  of 
her  whereabouts  to  Aunt  Letitia,  they  started  off. 

Meanwhile,  Nan  sat  by  the  boy's  bedside,  while  "  Love  " 
went  down-stairs  to  the  performance  of  some  household 
duties. 

Nan  looked  at  the  little  white  sleeping  face,  wondering 
what  he  could  tell  of  that  vaguely  mysterious  and  wholly 
delightful  place — the  theatre. 


Nan.  1 1 1 


CHAPTER  XYIL 

ALL  his  life  long  Lance  thought  he  would  remember 
that  morning's  expedition.  Dr.  Rogers  knew  his  way  per- 
fectly to  the  Beverley  Opera  House  stage-entrance,  having 
more  than  once  been  called  in  in  sudden  cases  of  illness; 
but  Lance  wondered  how  he  could  take  the  visit  in  such  a 
very  cool  sort  of  way. 

"  I  suppose  you  never  before  went  behind  the  scenes  of 
a  theatre,"  he  said,  looking  at  Lance's  eager  young  face. 

"  No,  sir,"  Lance  said,  "  I  don't  suppose  my  father  would 
object  to  my  going  now  with  you." 

"  I'll  make  that  all  right,"  the  doctor  said.  And  Lance, 
feeling  his  only  misgiving  removed,  went  on  full  of  sup- 
pressed excitement. 

Dr.  Rogers  had  known  many  people  in  what  is  always 
called  "  the  profession ;"  but  to  Lance  it  seemed,  from 
what  he  told  him,  as  though  he  knew  chiefly  the  sad  and 
toilsome  sides  of  their  lives.  The  hard  work — both  of 
appearing  gay  when  most  weary,  and  of  being  morning, 
noon,  and  night  either  rehearsing  or  acting,  or  hanging 


112  Nan. 

about  managers'  or  treasurers'  offices,  or  doleful  green- 
rooms. Now,  to  Lance,  a  "  green  -  room "  meant  such  a 
place  as  he  had  seen  described  in  lives  of  Garrick  or  Gold- 
smith ;  where  the  great  beaux  and  wits  of  the  day  gathered, 
and  where  the  sparkle  of  gems,  the  clinking  of  glasses,  and 
the  gayety  of  voices  aided  a  brilliant  scene. 

"  This  way,"  Dr.  Kogers  said,  as  they  turned  down  a  little 
side  alley  at  one  side  of  the  theatre.  Outside  were  flaring 
placards  of  the  "  Great  Spectacular  Drama,"  being  performed 
with  one  hundred  dancers,  some  real  horses,  and  a  chariot — 
all  splendors  which  he  would  fain  have  witnessed  from  the 
front  of  the  house ;  but  while  Mr.  Rolf  encouraged  his  boy 
to  see  first-class  theatrical  representations,  he  would  have 
forbidden  his  attending  this  lower  order  of  vulgar  display, 
and  Lance  led  too  frank  a  life  to  do  in  secret  what  he  knew 
his  father  and  Phyllis  would  condemn. 

Some  warehouses  were  at  one  side,  and,  wedged  in  be- 
tween them,  Lance  saw  a  narrow  doorway  with  a  flight  of 
steps  leading  underground ;  above  the  door  "was  written  in 
half -legible  characters,  "  Stage  En  trance.  N o  Admittance" 
The  doctor,  however,  pushed  on,  descending  the  stairs  fol- 
lowed by  Lance.  A  rough-looking  lad  was  standing  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps,  evidently  on  guard ;  but  the  doctor  simply 
said,  "All  right,"  and  passed  on,  with  Lance  close  beside 
him.  They  groped  their  way  along  a  dark  passage,  to  the 


Nan.  1 1 3 

left  of  which  was  a  flight  of  rickety  steps,  and  up  these 
they  hurried,  Lance  wondering  how  soon  the  air  would  feel 
anything  but  damp  and  draughty.  Below  he  had  remarked 
various  pieces  of  stage  carpentry,  and  Dr.  Rogers  explained 
to  him  that  it  was  there  much  of  the  necessary  stage  work 
was  executed. 

At  the  top  of  the  stairs  they  found  themselves  in  a  laby- 
rinth of  side-scenes,  beams,  and  pulleys — all  the  mechanical 
part  of  the  Grand  Spectacular  Drama  about  to  be  per- 
formed. Men  were  running  here  and  there;  from  high  up 
in  what  looked  like  scaffoldings  Lance  could  hear  voices — 
the  stage-carpenter  calling  out  this  and  that  direction  with 
various  strong  expressions — while  already,  in  the  narrow 
spaces  behind  the  scenes,  the  actors  and  actresses  were 
beginning  to  move  about.  There  was  some  gaslight,  but 
usually  a  cold  stream  of  daylight  fell  in  upon  the  painted 
faces  and  tawdry-looking  costumes,  which  would  soon  have 
the  aid  of  the  footlights  and  the  illusions  of  a  happy  coun- 
try audience.  But  here  everything  looked  what  it  really 
was ;  and  oh,  in  spite  of  paint  and  powder,  how  weary  some 
of  the  faces  looked !  A  group  of  young  girls,  thinly  dressed, 
were  gathered  together  near  one  of  the  side -scenes,  and 
Lance  overheard  them  discussing  whether  they  would  have 
much  to  pay  in  fines  out  of  their  salaries  that  night.  One 
girl,  who,  singular  to  say,  was  occupied  in  darning  stock- 


114  Nan. 

ings,  declared  if  she  were  to  be  fined  again  for  being  "  just 
one  minute  late,"  she  couldn't  stand  it.  "I'll  starve  next," 
she  said,  with  a  sad  laugh. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Mr.  Burton  is  ?"  the  doctor  asked 
of  one  of  these  young  people. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  answered,  very  politely ;  "  I  think  he's  in 
the  green-room." 

The  word  green-room  sent  a  thrill  of  delight  to  Lance's 
heart,  and  Dr.  Rogers  led  the  way  directly  across  the  stage, 
where  already  a  fairy  scene  was  set ;  but  Lance  could  not 
help  a  feeling  of  surprise  and  disappointment  as  he  found 
himself  passing  pasteboard  trees,  and  a  grotto  made  up  of 
the  queerest  odds  and  ends;  while  at  one  side  the  most 
coarsely  painted  stream  trickled  over  painted  rocks.  But 
the  green  -  room  was  ahead  of  him.  Dr.  Rogers  made  his 
way  into  a  small,  scantily  furnished  room,  bare  and  com- 
pletely dismal.  Here  were  gathered  two  or  three  people 
in  costumes  of  a  somewhat  better  description  than  the 
girls  they  had  seen  grouped  together.  One  young  man 
was  putting  some  additional  touches  to  his  eyebrows  at  a 
cracked  mirror,  and  a  stout,  elaborately  dressed  lady  was 
talking  earnestly  to  the  manager.  Only  a  few  chairs  and 
a  table  of  the  roughest  description  furnished  what  Lance 
had  to  believe  was  actually  a  green  -  room !  His  illusions 
were  certainly  gone,  but  he  was  glad  to  have  seen  it,  at  all 


Nan.  115 

events,  and  he  began  now  to  think  more  earnestly  of  their 
errand. 

Dr.  Rogers  courteously  explained  to  Mr.  Burton  that  he 
had  come  to  inquire  the  whereabouts  of  a  woman  named 
Travers.  At  this,  one  of  the  company  near  the  door  said, 
"  Oh,  Travers  is  in  my  dressing-room.  Do  you  want  to  see 
her?" 

"  I'm  sure  I'm  very  sorry  for  her,"  said  Mr.  Burton,  well 
knowing  that  Dr.  Rogers' s  errand  was  charity ;  "  and  I've 
taken  her  on  with  us  a  few  weeks  as  dresser;  but  I'm 
afraid  she  won't  hold  out.  She's  a  pretty  sick  woman." 

The  lady  who  had  spoken  said,  "  Will  you  come  and  see 
her,  sir  2" 

Mr.  Burton  seemed  very  busy,  and  Dr.  Rogers  followed 
the  good-humored  actress,  who  was  glittering  with  spangles 
and  paste  jewelry,  up  a  rickety  staircase  to  a  little  box  of  a 
room,  noisy  and  ill-ventilated. 

On  a  half-broken-down  chair  there  sat  a  thin,  hollow-eyed 
woman,  who  apparently  felt  too  listless  to  move ;  scarcely 
looking  up  when  the  actress  said,  kindly,  "  Mollie,  here's  a 
doctor,  who  says  he  has  the  boy." 

At  this  she  brightened,  and,  on  hearing  what  had  oc- 
curred at  Mr.  Blake's,  she  expressed  a  desire  to  go  at  once 
to  the  child ;  but  as  she  rose  it  was  only  too  evident  that 
her  strength  would  not  admit  of  her  walking  one  block, 


n6  Nan. 

and  so  the  kind-hearted  doctor  whispered  to  Lance,  "  Sup- 
pose you  get  a  hack,  my  boy,  from  the  depot ;  and  here,  a 
little  port  wine  wouldn't  hurt  her." 

"  Oh,  sir,"  said  the  actress, "  we  gave  her  all  the  dinner 
she'd  take ;  and  I'm  sure  we'd  all  do  anything  we  could  for 
her.  She  was  with  our  company  six  months  before  Travers 
died.  But  I'm  sure,  as  a  physician,  you  can  tell  she's  not 
fit  for  work." 

Lance  threaded  his  way  out  into  the  street,  and  soon  re- 
turned to  say  the  hack  was  waiting.  They  assisted  poor 
Mrs.  Travers  out  into  it,  several  of  the  company  taking  a 
kindly  interest  in  the  poor  creature's  departure.  As  they 
left,  Lance  could  hear  the  orchestra  playing  gayly,  and  the 
voice  of  the  stage -manager  calling  to  the  dancers,  "This 
way,  my  dears ;  hurry  up ;  no  nonsense  now !" 

And  as  he  looked  at  the  pale,  haggard  face  of  Mrs.  Trav- 
ers, he  wondered  how  she  had  thought  of  renewing  a  life 
in  which,  it  already  seemed  to  him,  there  could  be  nothing 
but  weariness  and  pain. 


THE  DOCTOR  AND  LANCE  FIND  MRS.  TRAVER8. 


Nan.  117 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

NAN'S  brain  worked  very  busily  with  schemes  for  the 
Travers'  future,  while  she  sat  by  little  David's  bedside. 
She  determined  to  do  all  Aunt  Letty  would  allow  her  to 
for  the  boy,  whom  she  felt  as  if  she  had  "  found,"  and  she 
thought  it  seemed  almost  in  answer  to  the  talk  she  and 
Lance  had  had  in  the  boat  that  very  morning. 

While  her  mind  was  working  with  a  dozen  highly  colored 
fancies  for  the  future,  she  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  out- 
side the  little  garden,  and,  stealing  to  the  window,  saw,  to 
her  great  joy,  the  Rolf  House  carriage,  from  which  Aunt 
Letitia  herself  was  descending. 

Nan  fairly  held  her  breath  while  she  heard  Miss  Rolf 
speaking  below  to  Love,  and  then  came  the  rustle  of  silk  along 
the  little  corridor,  and  Miss  Rolf  gently  entered  the  room. 

Nan  started  forward,  catching  her  aunt's  hand  and  look- 
ing up  with  beaming  eyes  at  her. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Letty,"  she  whispered,  "  how  glad  I  am  you 
came !" 

"  I  wanted  my  own  little  runaway,"  said  Miss  Rolf,  smil- 


1 1 8  Nan. 

ing  good-hum oredly ;  "  and,  Nan,  tell  me  more  about  this 
poor  little  boy."  So  Nan  repeated  the  story,  and  then, 
while  she  stood  in  the  window  by  her  aunt,  she  begged  that 
he  and  his  mother  might  be  provided  for. 

"If  you'd  let  me,  aunt — my  pocket-money,"  faltered 
Kan,  who  had  been  just  two  weeks  in  receipt  of  an  allow- 
ance of  half  a  dollar. 

Miss  Rolf  smiled.  She  remained  thinking  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  very  gently :  "  I'll  see  that  he  is  cared  for, 
Kan,  and  then — if  it  turns  out  well — I'll  speak  to  you  of 
a  plan  I  have." 

Kan  pressed  her  aunt's  hand  warmly;  and  as  Margaret 
came  up  now,  Miss  Rolf  turned  to  her  and  asked  if  it  would 
be  quite  convenient  to  her  father  and  herself  to  let  the  poor 
wanderers  ~board  there  a  week  or  two.  Margaret  said  she 
was  sure  of  it;  and  a  querulous  voice  across  the  hall  calling 
her  name,  she  added  in  an  undertone,  "  Perhaps,  Miss  Rolf, 
you  wouldn't  mind  speaking  to  mother  about  it  ?" 

And  Miss  Rolf,  who  thoroughly  understood  Mrs.  Blake's 
caprices,  went  across  the  hall  into  the  room  where  the  in- 
valid sat  in  an  easy-chair,  every  comfort  about  her  that  the 
hard  work  and  the  tenderness  of  her  husband  and  child  conld 
procure.  But  Mrs.  Blake,  as  somebody  said,  would  be  one 
to  complain  that  her  heavenly  crown  was  uncomfortable,  so 
completely  dissatisfied  was  she  with  everything.  Miss  Rolf, 
however,  was  in  her  eyes  the  one  human  being  she  could 


Nan.  1 1 9 

submit  to.  When  she  was  a  young  girl  she  had  known  the 
old  lady,  who  had  procured  for  her  her  place  as  district 
school-teacher, from  which  she  felt  she  "descended"  to  marry 
honest  Joel  Blake.  It  was  easy  for  Miss  Kolf  to  make  Mrs. 
Blake  consent  to  the  Travers'  boarding  there  until  she,  Miss 
Rolf,  decided  what  permanent  home  could  be  found ;  and, 
while  they  were  discussing  it,  Lance  returned  to  say  that  the 
doctor  had  been  obliged  to  take  poor  Mrs.  Travers  to  the 
Cottage  Hospital  he  superintended,  and  which  was  largely 
under  Miss  Rolfs  patronage.  The  poor  woman  was  cer- 
tainly very  ill.  So  only  little  David  was  to  be  left  on  Mar- 
garet's willing  hands.  Miss  Rolf  departed,  promising  to 
send  Mrs.  Heriot  over  directly  to  see  what  Margaret  needed, 
and,  leaving  his  boat  in  Blake's  charge,  Lance  drove  home 
with  Nan  and  his  Cousin  Letty. 

The  morning  had  been  to  Nan  full  of  excitement,  but  the 
afternoon  was  to  contain  even  a  greater  amount.  Nan  knew 
that  her  aunt  was  very  thoughtful,  and  when  she  sent  word 
at  four  o'clock  asking  Dr.  Rogers  to  call  at  Rolf  House  to 
take  tea,  something  in  the  way  she  spoke  of  it  to  Nan  im- 
pressed the  little  girl  as  though  plans  were  being  made  in 
which  she  was  concerned ;  and  after  tea  the  mystery  was 
solved.  Nan  and  Lance  were  in  the  drawing-room,  the  lat- 
ter eagerly  relating  his  experience  at  the  theatre,  when  they 
heard  Dr.  Rogers  leaving  the  house,  and  in  a  moment  Nan 
was  sent  for  to  the  black-walnut  parlor. 


1 20  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

IT  was  still  daylight,  and  as  Nan  entered  the  parlor  she 
saw  Miss  Rolf  seated  in  one  of  the  windows  before  her 
writing-table,  and  on  it  were  strewn  some  papers,  evidently 
recently  in  use. 

Never  had  Aunt  Letty's  voice  been  kinder  than  when  she 
said,  "  Come  over  here,  Annice,  and  sit  down.  I  want  to 
tell  you  my  plan." 

So  Nan  did  as  she  was  told,  and  then  Aunt  Letty,  after  a 
little  fumbling  among  her  papers,  said :  "  I  told  you  I  had  a 
plan ;  but  I  wanted  to  discuss  the  wisdom  of  it  with  Dr. 
Rogers  before  I  spoke  of  it  to  you." 

"  Yes,  aunt,"  said  Nan,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  Miss  Rolf's 
face. 

"  It  is  this,  then,  my  dear.  If — if  I  see  fit  to  leave  you  in 
my  will  any  large  sum  of  money,  you  must  know  that  the 
use  of  it  is  a  great — a  great  responsibility.  Money  is  not 
given  us  just  for  ourselves,  Annice.  "We  owe  our  use  of  it 
not  only  to  God,  who  let  us  have  it,  but  to  those  who  have 
daily  need  of  it.  I  should  suffer  greatly  if  I  thought  I  was 


Nan.  121 

the  means  of  your  misusing  any  money  I  might  leave  you. 
I  would  rather  see  you  work  hard  for  your  daily  bread  than 
have  to  sin  by  ill-using  any  fortune.  I  wear  rich  clothes, 
but  these  I  always  care  for,  and  you  do  not  know  how  little 
I  really  spend ;  but  were  I  to  buy  simply  for  the  sake  of 
decking  my  person  I  should  call  it  a  misuse  of  the  money 
God  has  seen  fit  to  let  me  have.  Nothing  is  more  odious 
than  a  pompous,  a  purse-proud,  or  a  miserly  rich  person." 
Aunt  Letty  broke  off  here  with  a  smile.  "  I  must  not  make 
my  sermon  too  long,  dear.  I  wanted  first  to  make  you  feel 
the  importance  of  the  trust  I  am  going  to  give  you.  Now, 
then — " 

Nan's  whole  heart  shone  in  her  face — she  felt  impressed 
— excited — yet  bewildered. 

"  Now  I  have  thought,"  said  Miss  Rolf,  "  for  some  time, 
of  making  you  give  away  certain  sums  in  charity,  and  it  oc- 
curred to  me  to-day  that  a  very  good  plan  would  be  for  you 
to  have,  in  a  certain  way,  the  charge  of  this  poor  mother  and 
her  child." 

"Oh!"  ejaculated  Nan. 

"I  would  not  give  you  the  money  outright  to  spend  for 
them,  for  you  are  too  young  for  that ;  but  at  certain  stores  in 
town  you  could  have  credit,  and,  while  I  would  superintend 
everything,  you  would  buy  everything  for  them.  "What  I 
would  exact  from  you  would  be  a  strictly  kept  account-book. 


122 


Nan. 


My  bills  would  come  in  once  in  six  months,  but  you  would 
have  to  show  me  your  book  every  week  or  month." 

Nan's  eyes  nearly  danced  out  of  her  head. 

"  Of  course,  if  I  found  you  were  too  young  for  this,"  Miss 
Kolf  continued,  "it  could  be  given  up  any  time;  but  Miss 
Prior  assures  me  your  strongest  point  is  for  figures,  and  you 
can  at  once  learn  regularly  keeping  accounts.  Then  I  shall 
expect  you  to  think  out  plans  for  your  people,  and  we  will 
talk  them  over." 

But  as  to  talking  now!  it  seemed  to  Nan  absolutely  im- 
possible. She  could  find  neither  words  nor  thoughts  which 
seemed  coherent,  only  within  her  heart  was  something  like 
a  quiet  prayer  that  nearly  ended  in  sobs. 

When  Miss  Kolf  had  discussed  her  plan  with  Dr.  Rogers, 
she  had  said :  "  I  feel  sure  I  am  right  about  this  child.  She 
has  a  real  vocation  for  good  works,  and  this  discipline  will 
steady  her,  while  the  work  will  please  her  thoroughly." 

And  Dr.  Rogers  had  agreed  with  Miss  Rolf  fully. 

Lance  was  summoned  soon  after,  and  Miss  Rolf  and  he 
and  Nan  talked  over  a  good  plan  for  comforting  the  wan- 
derers. I  say  talked — but  it  was  Nan  who  only  listened 
with  glistening  eyes  and  a  beating  heart.  How  she  longed 
to  confide  in  Joan  !  It  seemed  an  eternity  to  wait  to  see 
her,  but  it  would  not  do,  she  felt  sure,  to  indulge  impatience 
of  this  sort  just  at  the  very  outset. 


Nan.  123 

Early  the  next  morning  Phyllis  came  over,  by  Miss 
Rolf's  request,  to  continue  the  fascinating  discussion.  It 
was  evident  that  she  scarcely  believed  Nan  old  enough  for 
such  a  responsibility,  but  of  course,  as  Miss  Eolf  said,  that 
could  so  easily  be  taken  from  her  that  it  was  assuredly  worth 
the  trial. 

Miss  Rolf's  idea  was  that  a  cottage  could  be  taken  for  Mrs. 
Travers,  and  that  David  could  go  to  school  in  the  morn- 
ings and  work  at  Rolf  House  in  the  afternoons.  Miss  Rolf 
had  no  idea  of  bringing  the  boy  up  to  idleness.  Should  he 
ever  show  any  special  talent  for  one  of  the  higher  profes- 
sions, that  could  be  developed  later,  or  even  if  he  showed 
talent  for  classical  study,  time  could  be  given  him  for  such. 

Driving  to  church,  Nan  looked  eagerly  at  every  possible 
cottage ;  but  it  was  not  until  some  days  later — when  Mrs. 
Travers  was  decidedly  better,  and  David  quite  well  enough 
to  sit  up  nearly  all  day,  that  the  cottage  was  found.  One 
morning  Dr.  Rogers  came  into  Rolf  House,  saying : 

"  Well,  Nan,  I've  just  what  will  suit  you,  I  think,  in  the 
way  of  a  cottage." 

Nan  blushed  and  smiled. 

"  May  I  take  her  with  me,  Miss  Rolf  ?"  the  good  doctor 
went  on.  And,  Miss  Rolf  assenting  readily,  Nan  was  soon 
in  the  doctor's  gig,  driving  along  the  river  road  near  to  Mr. 

Blake's. 

10 


1 24  Nan. 

He  explained  that  he  had  come  upon  a  widow  who,  with 
her  daughter,  occupied  a  very  comfortable  cottage  so  much 
too  large  for  their  requirements  that  they  were  very  willing 
to  let  one  half  of  it  to  Nan  for  Mrs.  Travers.  As  Mrs. 
Travers  must  always  be  an  invalid,  it  would  be  better  for 
her  to  have  some  one  else  in  the  house  with  her  while 
David  was  so  young. 

"  I  had  thought  of  that,  doctor,"  said  Nan,  shyly. 

"  Ho,  ho !"  laughed  the  doctor,  "  so  you  really  can  think, 
puss.  That's  a  good  beginning." 

Nan  would  have  been  much  better  pleased  had  Lance  and 
Joan  been  with  her,  still  she  certainly  enjoyed  the  expe- 
dition. The  cottage  stood  in  a  little  garden  of  its  own,  and 
there  was  nice  pasture  for  a  cow,  and  Mrs.  Holt,  the  occu- 
pant, was  very  well  pleased  to  show  the  doctor  and  Nan  the 
rooms  she  designed  to  let.  There  were  three — a  sitting- 
room,  quite  comfortably  furnished,  and  a  small  and  a  large 
bedroom,  and  Mrs.  Holt  was  willing  to  undertake  Mrs. 
Travers's  cooking.  Everything  looked  bright  and  cheerful, 
and  four  dollars  a  week  for  the  rooms  did  not  seem  too 
much ;  but  Nan  hesitated — ought  she  to  make  the  bargain 
then  and  there?  She  glanced  at  the  doctor,  but  he  said 
nothing  until  she  whispered  the  inquiry ;  then  he  said  : 

"  You  didn't  ask  about  her  charges  for  cooking.  Better 
have  Mrs.  Travers  send  in  her  own  food." 


Nan.  125 

Nan  felt,  foolishly,  as  though  this  had  been  a  great  over- 
sight on  her  part ;  but  she  soon  arranged  to  pay  fifty  cents 
more  a  week  for  the  cooking,  and  then  the  doctor  handed 
her  a  little  note-book,  in  which  she  was  to  enter  these  nego- 
tiations. 

Nan  had  a  sort  of  feeling  that  Phyllis  would  not  like  the 
rooms.  The  little  parlor  was  certainly  very  gaudy  and  its 
ornaments  cheap-looking;  but  she  reflected — perhaps  they 
might  change  that  before  Mrs.  Travers  took  possession.  She 
would  ask  Phyllis's  advice. 


126  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

JOAN  stood  outside  of  the  school -room  door  in  Eolf 
House,  knocking  very  timidly.  It  was  half -past  three — 
lessons  must  be  over;  but  then,  thought  Joan,  with  a  little 
screw  to  her  nose,  that  Miss  Prior  would  probably  keep 
Nan  until  the  very  last  possible  minute ! 

"  Come  in,"  a  cold  voice  said,  and  Joan  opened  the  door, 
looking  in  on  the  large,  bare  room,  with  Nan  in  its  centre, 
and  Miss  Prior,  with  her  head  bound  up  from  toothache, 
listening  to  her  arithmetic. 

Things  were  going  better  just  at  this  moment,  for  Nan 
had  quite  a  genius  for  figures,  and  Miss  Prior  enjoyed  any- 
thing mathematical.  The  lesson  was  just  over.  Miss  Prior 
was  glad  to  go  home  and  take  care  of  her  suffering  face, 
and  so  Joan  soon  found  herself  alone  with  her  cousin. 

"  Well,  Nan !"  she  exclaimed,  "  Cousin  Letty  thinks  it 
best  for  Laura  to  go  out  with  us  when  you  buy  the  things. 
That,  I  suppose,  is  to  keep  me  in  order." 

Joan  grimaced  and  laughed,  and  Nan  said,  quickly, 

"  Well,  let's  not  mind,  Joan.  Do  you  know,  I  fancy 
Laura  hasn't  much  real  pleasure." 


Nan.  127 

Joan,  who  had  seated  herself  in  the  window,  looked 
around  with  a  laugh. 

"  Oh  yes,  she  has,  Nan,"  she  said ;  "  she  is  always  with 
those  Phillipses  we  go  to  school  with,  and  the  Tempests ; 
and  they  have  all  the  fun  they  want.  And  she  considers 
herself  now  quite  a  young  lady." 

"  She  is  only  fourteen,"  said  Nan. 

"  Well,  she  feels  two  hundred  and  four,"  said  Joan. 
"  Come,  Nan,  tell  me  what  you're  going  to  buy." 

Nan  was,  on  this  eventful  morning,  starting  out  to  make 
her  first  purchases,  as  it  were,  on  her  own  account.  She 
was  to  buy  clothes  for  David,  some  dresses  and  other  things 
for  Mrs.  Travers,  and  various  minor  comforts  for  the  house- 
hold and  their  personal  needs.  Miss  Rolf  preferred  leaving 
her  entirely  to  herself  in  these  matters  for  one  week.  After 
that,  when  the  first  accounts  were  presented,  she  decided 
that  she  could  judge  of  Nan's  fitness  for  her  new  responsi- 
bility. The  old  lady  had  notified  various  merchants  in 
town  that  her  niece  was  to  be  given  credit,  and  so  every- 
thing was  in  train. 

Nan  hardly  liked  to  confess  even  to  Joan  her  sense  of 
importance  and  excitement,  as  she  started  out  in  the  big 
family  carriage  with  Laura  and  Joan,  and  Mrs.  Heriot,  who 
had  come  in  a  way  to  matronize  the  youthful  party.  Joan 
busied  her  dark  head  over  Nan's  list,  calling  upon  her  every 


1 28  Nan. 

now  and  then  to  decipher  figures  or  writing.  In  the  gen- 
erosity of  her  nature  she  felt  no  jealousy  of  Nan's  posi- 
tion— only  a  pleasurable  sense  of  her  cousin's  importance. 
Laura  liked  the  excitement  of  it,  but,  although  impressed 
by  Nan's  new  power,  was  inclined  to  be  supercilious.  She 
smiled  upon  Joan's  little  enthusiasms,  and  looked  at  Nan 
very  patronizingly. 

They  stopped  first  before  Messrs.  Ames  &  Ames's  large 
dry-goods  store,  and  there  Nan  was  reminded  of  her  first 
purchases  with  Cousin  Phyllis.  How  long  ago  it  seemed, 
and  how  little  she  had  then  thought  to  be  so  soon  in  such  a 
position  herself  1 

Two  nice  suits  for  David  were  bought,  and  various 
minor  articles,  and  then  Mrs.  Travers's  dresses  had  to  be 
chosen.  Here  Laura  became  decisive  in  her  opinions,  and 
Mrs.  Heriot  gave  some  sound  advice;  while  Nan's  fancy 
wavered  between  a  green  camel' s-hair  and  a  nice  dark  linen, 
and  a  light-brown  wool  and  a  gayer  calico.  The  former 
were  chosen,  at  last,  and  their  etceteras ;  and  then  it  was 
that  the  clerk  asked  the  address,  and  Laura,  whose  spirits 
had  perceptibly  risen,  leaned  forward  over  Nan's  shoulder, 
saying, 

"  Miss  Eolf  said,  I  believe,  it  was  all  to  be  charged." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  miss,  certainly !"  rejoined  the  clerk  ;  and 
Laura  looked  well  satisfied. 


Nan.  129 

Now  Nan  felt,  for  a  moment  or  two,  a  rush  of  indigna- 
tion. Why  couldn't  Laura  have  left  her  alone?  But  sud- 
denly the  thought  came  into  her  mind — was  this  all  done 
for  her  pleasure,  or  to  discipline  and  help  her  to  help  oth- 
ers? This  brought  peace.  Nan  was  able  to  move  to  the 
next  department,  and  bring  herself  to  ask  Laura's  advice  in 
a  gentle  voice. 

Miss  Rolf  had  suggested  buying  some  books,  and  at 
Ames's  were  two  well-stocked  counters,  from  which  Laura 
was  asked  to  select  one  or  two  nice  volumes  of  history,  and 
the  same  of  romance  and  poetry.  Laura's  taste,  like  Phyl- 
lis's,  was  good ;  and  the  books,  if  a  trifle  sentimental,  were 
well  chosen.  The  carriage  was  loaded  with  parcels,  and 
then  the  girls  drove  to  Margaret  Blake's. 

Miss  Eolf  had  desired  Nan  to  choose  little  Love  a  silk 
dress — an  article  such  as  she  had  certainly  never  dreamed 
of  possessing — and  Nan  had  been  delighted  by  the  idea. 
She  chose  a  pretty  dark-brown  silk,  but  Laura  said  Margaret 
would  like  a  trimming  of  lighter  silk ;  yet  Nan  remembered 
Love's  quiet  eyes,  the  sober,  happy  little  face — she  could 
not  think  of  her  in  anything  but  pretty  and  simple  gowns. 

"  I  don't  think,  Laura,"  she  said,  gently, "  that  Love  would 
like — a—; -fashionable  kind  of  a  dress ;  she  wants  something 
just  nice  /" 

So  Laura  had  laughed  and  turned  away;  and  the  re- 


1 30  Nan. 

suit  was  that  Nan  had  chosen  the  plain,  pretty,  brown 
silk. 

As  they  drove  down  the  river  road  towards  the  Blakes, 
Mrs.  Heriot  began  to  tell  how  David  had  spoken  the  night 
she  had  gone  to  ask  what  he  needed.  Mrs.  Heriot,  by  this 
time,  was  Nan's  stanch  friend — and  who  could  help  being? 
Brilliant  she  never  would  be ;  yet  every  one  who  came  near 
the  child  felt  the  loving  tenderness  of  her  heart — her  eyes 
would  look  around  at  you,  full  of  a  liquid  softness  which 
had  an  appealing  something  in  it  which  no  one  could  resist. 

Of  course,  of  this  party  Nan  was  really  prime  mover; 
yet  she  remembered  her  aunt's  words.  If  money  were 
given  her,  she  must  not  think  of  it  as  a  means  of  making 
herself  or  any  one  else  fine  or  grand  or  pompous ;  it  was 
just  to  help  those  who  lacked  it. 

Nan  leaned  back  in  the  carriage,  happy  and  excited,  and 
no  doubt  feeling  rather  important;  yet  something  of  the 
sermon  she  had  heard  on  Sunday  ran  in  her  mind.  She 
could  not  have  given  the  text,  but  the  words  pointed  to  a 
spirit  of  humbleness  when  happy  things  seemed  to  come  sud- 
denly. Poor  little  Nan  !  Hers  had  been  a  hard  life,  and  she 
was  scarcely  fourteen  ;  and,  judged  by  the  standard  of  Cous- 
in Phyllis  or  Laura,  or  Miss  Prior,  she  was  not  " brilliant" 
Yet  in  her  heart  was  a  steadfast  longing  to  do  whatever 
God  had  meant  she  should.  Nan  was  a  child,  she  could  not 


Nan.  131 

tell  what  she  ought  to  do ;  but  yet  heart  and  soul  and  mean- 
ing were  all  pure.  If  she  had  ever  cherished  a  personal 
dislike,  it  was  towards  her  cousin  Laura  Rolf;  but  before 
the  drive  had  brought  them  to  the  Blakes'  door,  she  forced 
herself  to  look  at  Laura  and  say,  gently,  "  Are  you  tired  ? 
Thank  you  for  helping  me."  There  was  a  real  sense  of 
comfort  in  feeling  that  she  had  so  far  conquered  herself. 


Nan. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

MARGARET  BLAKE  was  in  the  garden  with  little  David 
when  the  happy  party  arrived ;  and  he,  who  had  already 
grown  well  acquainted  with  Nan,  hurried  forward  with 
beaming  eyes  to  open  the  gate  for  her.  Then  they  all 
went  into  the  parlor,  where  Love's  dress  was  duly  inspect- 
ed, and  David's  heart  delighted  by  a  game  Nan  had  bought 
for  him.  Margaret  could  not  say  enough  to  express  her 
pleasure  and  gratification,  arid  discussed  with  Mrs.  Heriot 
how  and  where  the  dress  had  better  be  made.  David  was 
almost  as  interested  in  Love's  present  as  she  was  herself; 
and,  while  they  all  stood  talking,  Mr.  Blake  appeared. 

"Father,"  Love  exclaimed,  "just  come  and  look!"  She 
held  up  the  pretty  dark  silk  in  a  most  fascinating  fold. 
Laura  was  near  her. 

"  Oh !"  said  Love,  turning  around  with  a  pretty  smile, 
"  how  well  it  lo.oks  with  Miss  Laura's  hair !" 

Poor  Laura !  vanity  was  her  very  weakest  point ;  and  as 
Margaret  Blake  shook  out  the  brown  silk  near  to  her  pretty 
blonde  hair,  she  turned  towards  the  glass  with  a  most  self- 


Nan.  133 

satisfied  expression.  It  might  have  grown  more  compla- 
cent had  not  the  mirror  also  reflected  Joan,  grimacing,  and 
Nan's  simple  young  face  looking  at  Laura's  very  gravely. 

"  Nonsense,  Margaret !"  she  exclaimed,  coloring ;  but  she 
thought  how  hard  it  was  she  could  not  always  have — what 
Jane  Phillips  had,  for  instance — becoming  and  stylish  dress. 
Laura's  standards  were  regulated  by  a  few  very  overdressed 
young  people  at  the  Beverley  Academy. 

When  the  party  drove  home,  Nan's  eager  eyes  saw  Aunt 
Letty  in  the  side-window  of  the  walnut  parlor.  A  smile 
that  made  Nan  happy  passed  between  her  aunt  and  herself ; 
and  when  she  had  fervently  hugged  Joan  and  bidden  Laura 
a  pleasant  good-night,  she  and  Mrs.  Heriot  went  into  the 
house,  Nan  dancing  with  anxiety  to  tell  her  aunt  every- 
thing. 

For  just  in  those  few  days  a  close  understanding  had 
grown  up  between  the  old  lady  and  the  child.  Nan  felt 
like  a  new  being  from  the  lonely  little  girl  who  had  one 
day,  two  weeks  ago,  walked  down  the  staircase  wishing  her- 
self in  Bromfield.  Her  aunt's  heart  had  opened  to  her,  and 
she  found  love  enough  in  it  to  satisfy  her  own.  She  well 
knew  that  in  the  test  she  was  going  through  scrupulous 
exactness  was  all  that  would  fill  her  aunt's  sense  of  success ; 
but  then  she  decided  she  would  be  careful  in  every  way. 

After  tea  Miss  Rolf  and  Nan  went  into  the  parlor,  and 


134  Nan. 

there  on  the  writing-table  lay  two  books,  bound  in  Russia 
leather,  and  with  "  Annice  Rolf  "  printed  in  gold  letters  on 
the  covers. 

"  You  see,"  said  Aunt  Letty,  "  one  is  to  be  for  your  ac- 
counts, the  other  for  a  sort  of  note-book  in  which  you  can 
enter  anything  you  think  the  Traverses  will  need." 

Nan  was  delighted,  and  Aunt  Letty  said  she  would  leave 
her  alone  a  little  while  that  she  might  enter  in  her  account- 
book  the  expenditures  of  the  day. 

Nan  sat  down  in  the  window  overlooking  the  terrace, 
and  prepared  her  accounts  carefully.  Yet  I  am  afraid  this 
first  page  was  rather  wild  in  appearance.  So  far  as  figures 
and  items  read  it  was  correct,  and  stood  thus : 

2  dresses  for  Mrs.  Travers 14  50 

There  were  two  soots  of  clothes  for  David,  and  they  were  9  00 

4  collars 30 

2  shirts 2  00 

10  yards  of  unbleeched  muzlin 80 

A  dark  skirt 75 

game  and  books 8 


35  35 


Nan  summed  up  her  badly-spelled  account,  and  wondered 
if  Aunt  Letty  would  think  it  too  much  to  have  spent.  She 
wished  Lance  were  there  to  help  her  decision  as  well  as  her 


Nan.  135 

figures ;  and  she  sat  looking  out  of  the  window,  biting  the 
end  of  her  pen,  and  wondering  if  she  really  could  manage 
these  business  matters  successfully.  But,  she  reflected,  if 
she  only  could,  what  a  useful  life  she  might  lead.  Aunt 
Letty  would  give  her  money,  she  felt  sure,  for  every  useful 
enterprise ;  and  Nan  was  made,  as  her  aunt  nicely  said,  to 
be  a  "  helper." 


1 36  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  day  that  Mrs.  Travers  and  David  were  to  be  installed 
in  their  new  home  was  one  of  intense  excitement  for  all 
the  young  Rolfs.  Mrs.  Travers  had  been  visited  by  various 
members  of  the  theatrical  company,  one  of  whom — the  lady 
in  whose  dressing-room  Dr.  Rogers  had  found  the  sick  wom- 
an— had  called  at  Rolf  House  to  express  her  gratification  and 
offer  a  little  purse  made  up  among  the  company. 

Nan  went  with  her  aunt  into  the  black-walnut  parlor  to 
see  this  lady — a  genuine  actress!  and  off  the  stage!  Nan 
knew  none  of  the  differences  in  companies  or  performances, 
nor  that  the  people  playing  "The  Silver  Grotto,  or  the 
Naiads'  Ring,"  at  the  Beverley  Opera  House,  were  of  the 
poor,  struggling,  and  hard -worked  kind  who  thought  it 
luxury  to  have  twenty  dollars  a  week  and  their  costumes 
"found." 

Mrs.  Landor  —  known  on  the  bills  as  "Miss  Blanche 
Blake  " — was  sitting  in  the  western  window  of  the  parlor, 
looking  very  much  heated  after  her  walk,  when  Miss  Rolf 
entered.  She  had  a  large,  fair,  good-humored  face,  rather 


Nan.  137 

the  worse  for  all  the  paint  and  powder  used  on  the  stage ; 
and  her  costume  of  faded  lavender  silk,  lace  mantilla,  and 
flowery  hat  looked  as  though  it  might  have  done  a  great 
deal  of  duty  on  the  boards.  Miss  Rolf  greeted  her  most 
courteously,  and  whispered  to  Nan  to  have  some  lemonade 
and  cake  brought  in. 

"You  see,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Landor  to  the  old  lady, 
"  we  thought  we  couldn't  go  off  without  sending  Mollie 
something ;  so  we  just  made  up  this  little  sum,  hoping  it 
would  help  things  along." 

"  I'm  sure  you  were  all  very  thoughtful,"  said  Miss  Rolf ; 
"  and  you  will  be  glad  to  know  that  Mrs.  Travers  will  be 
well  cared  for." 

""Well'm,"  said  the  other,  fanning  herself  vigorously, 
"  you  see  she  wasn't  brought  up  in  the  profession  as  I  was, 
and  she  always  took  things  hard.  Travers,  her  husband, 
was  a  capital  comedy  man,  and  I'm  told  it  was  a  runaway 
match ;  but  he  got  to  drinking,  and  I  think  she  led  a  hard 
life  with  him.  She's  one  of  those  that  couldn't  get  along 
even  for  herself ;  but  she's  as  sweet  and  as  good  a  creature 
as  I  ever  knew.  We're  doing  a  good  business  now  on  the 
road,  and  so  we  thought  it  only  fair  poor  Mollie  should 
have  something." 

Nan  brought  in  the  tray  of  lemonade  and  cake  herself, 
and  timidly  offered  some  to  Mrs.  Landor,  who  was  much 


1 38  Nan. 

pleased,  and  asked  if  this  was  the  young  lady  little  David 
talked  of.  Nan  blushed  with  delight,  and  occupied  the 
next  few  moments  in  critically  examining  every  article  of 
Mrs.  Landor's  dress,  and  every  motion  of  her  face  or  hands, 
in  order  to  tell  Joan  what  an  actress  really  was  like. 

Before  Mrs.  Landor  left,  Miss  Rolf  asked  her  whether  she 
would  not  like  some  flowers;  and  Nan  conducted  her  into 
the  beautiful  garden,  where  she  gathered  a  heaping  basket 
of  roses  and  heliotrope  and  other  blossoms,  to  Mrs.  Landor's 
great  delight. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  standing  in  the  garden  and  surveying 
the  large  handsome  house  among  the  trees — "  well,  I  think 
Mollie  Travers  has  found  friends."  A  wistful  look  came 
into  the  good-hearted  woman's  face.  "I  wish  my  Janey 
were  going  to  do  half  as  well  in  life  as  I  know  David  will 
now.  Thank  you,. I'm  sure,"  she  added,  as  Nan  laid  one  or 
two  more  exquisite  "  Jacque  "  roses  in  the  basket.  "  I  must 
say  good-bye;  and  if  our  company  comes  this  way  at  Christ- 
mas, perhaps  we'll  find  Mrs.  Travers  well  again." 

Miss  Rolf  said  she  hoped,  if  the  company  did  return,  Mrs. 
Landor  would  call  again  ;  and  so  the  good  woman  departed, 
well  pleased  by  her  visit. 

That  afternoon  had  been  determined  upon  for  the  taking 
possession  of  the  new  rooms,  and  Mrs.  Landor  had  no  sooner 
departed  than  Phyllis  and  Joan  and  Lance  appeared,  to  go 


Nan.  1 39 

with  Nan  for  the  final  survey  and  arrangements  of  the  room. 
Phyllis  came  Tip  the  garden  path  with  a  funny  little  half- 
satirical  smile  just  curving  her  lips. 

"Who  in  the  world  was  your  strange  visitor,  Cousin 
Letty  ?"  she  inquired. 

Miss  Rolf  was  still  standing  on  the  steps  where  she  had 
watched  Nan  gather  the  roses,  and  she  looked  a  little  disap- 
provingly upon  pretty  Phyllis. 

"  That  was  a  very  good-hearted  friend  of  Mrs.  Travers," 
she  answered, "  who  brought  a  little  purse  she  had  made  up 
among  her  associates  for  our  poor  friend." 

Now  there  was  one  peculiarity  about  Aunt  Letitia  which 
appealed  most  strongly  to  Nan.  She  rarely  used  strong 
words  of  approval  or  condemnation,  yet  in  all  that  she  said 
it  was  not  possible  for  a  person,  even  of  ordinary  discern- 
ment, to  mistake  her  meaning.  Phyllis  felt  intuitively  re- 
buked, and  she  hastened  to  change  the  subject.  It  was  this 
young  lady's  inflexible  rule  never  to  annoy  Cousin  Letty. 

Nan  was  quickly  ready  for  their  expedition,  and  walked 
along  with  Joan's  hand  in  hers,  eagerly  detailing  Mrs.  Lan- 
dor's  visit. 

"  Oh !"  said  Joan,  "  how  much  harder  I  should  have 
looked  at  her  if  I'd  only  known  she  was  an  actress !" 

But,  at  all  events,  it  was  consoling  to  hear  Nan's  voluble 
description  ;  and,  as  Joan  remarked, perhaps  she  would  come 


140  Nan. 

again  some  day,  when  Nan  promised  immediately  to  send 
for  Joan. 

They  found  Mrs.  Holt  anxious  to  show  them  how  well 
she  had  cleaned  the  rooms,  and  evidently  eager  to  know 
what  two  or  three  large  packages,  which  had  come  from 
Ames's,  contained.  These  were  opened  in  the  little  sitting- 
room,  and  disclosed  a  pair  of  pretty  muslin  curtains,  some 
sofa  cushions,  and  two  sets  of  hanging  book-shelves,  with 
some  cheap  though  well-colored  blue  Japanese  china  bowls, 
and  a  few  ornaments  of  the  blue-and-white  Satsuma  ware. 

Nan  had  not  been  mistaken  in  relying  upon  Cousin  Phyl- 
lis's  exquisite  taste,  even  in  arranging  the  simplest  things ; 
and  added  to  this  was  so  much  tact  that  she  induced  Mrs. 
Holt  to  put  away  the  tawdry  ornaments  of  the  room  with- 
out in  the  least  affronting  that  good  woman. 

"My  Mirandy  made  that,"  she  said,  dusting  the  glass 
shade  of  some  hideous  wax  flowers,  startling  fuchsias  and 
lilies  of  the  valley,  and  big  bursting  white  roses. 

"  Oh,  then,"  said  Phyllis,  sweetly,  "  hadn't  you  rather  put 
it  away  now,  Mrs.  Holt?"  And  so  one  such  thing  after  an- 
other was  disposed  of,  and  then  the  little  sitting-room,  with 
its  matted  floor  and  clean  walls  and  windows,  the  chintz- 
covered  sofa  and  chairs,  looked  invitingly  ready  for  their 
final  touches.  The  book-shelves  were  hung  at  each  side  of 
the  chimney-piece,  and  on  the  lower  shelves  they  put  some 


Nan.  141 

of  the  Japanese  ware,  in  which  fresh  flowers  could  be  kept. 
Then  the  few  pictures — good  cuts  from  illustrated  papers, 
and  well  framed  in  plain  oak — were  hung ;  the  sofa  cush- 
ions adjusted,  and  the  curtains  nicely  draped  and  tied  back 
with  dark-red  ribbons.  The  white  marble  centre-table  was 
covered  with  an  olive-green  cloth,  and  on  it  arranged  a  lamp 
and  a  few  books,  and  a  lacquer  box,  in  which  were  pens  and 
pencils ;  while  an  inkstand  and  blotter  were  at  one  side. 
Nan  surveyed  the  room  with  delight;  and  it  certainly 
looked  most  inviting,  though  there  was  nothing  in  it  or 
about  it  which  suggested  luxury.  It  was  a  simple  abode ; 
but  everything  was  in  good  taste  and  refined. 

In  the  widow's  bedroom  a  few  comforts  for  an  invalid 
were  placed — a  low  table  which  could  be  near  her  bed,  a 
nice  bath  and  a  warm  wool  rug,  with  one  or  two  cheerful 
pictures  on  the  walls.  David's  little  room  beyond,  they 
felt,  they  could  leave  more  bare,  since,  as  Nan  said,  "  Boys 
are  only  boys."  And  Joan  added,  "And  they  never  know 
what  they  have  about  them." 

By  three  o'clock  everything  was  ready :  Flowers  in  the 
vases  and  bowls ;  the  windows  opened,  but  shaded ;  and  Mrs. 
Holt  was  instructed  to  have  a  nice  substantial  tea  ready 
when  the  mother  and  child  arrived.  And  then  Nan  told 
Phyllis  what  Aunt  Letty  had  suggested — that  Mrs.  Heriot 
and  Love  should  bring  them  to  Miller  Street  cottage. 


142  Nan. 

"Aunt  Letty  says,"  said  Nan,  "that  they  may  feel  shy 
if  we  are  here." 

Phyllis  quite  agreed  to  this,  but  Joan  felt  as  if  she  would 
like  to  have  witnessed  the  Traverses  taking  possession  of 
their  new  abode;  and  Nan  had  to  make  herself  very  con- 
solatory on  the  subject  all  the  way  home. 


Nan.  143 


CHAPTEB  XXIII. 

THE  next  few  weeks  passed  very  rapidly ;  not  alone  had 
Kan  to  think  of  her  charges  in  Miller  Street,  who  were  cer- 
tainly thriving,  but  preparations  for  Phyllis's  birthday  were 
going  on  in  a  very  elaborate  and  exciting  manner.  A  great 
deal  of  secrecy  was  required  in  the  doings  at  the  carriage- 
house,  where  there  were  now  daily  rehearsals — Kan  perform- 
ing the  part  of  the  Captive,  and  Laura  the  Knight.  There 
was  some  difficulty  in  making  Dicksie,  who  was  the  Knight's 
intimate  friend,  conduct  himself  satisfactorily,  as  he  was  so 
exceedingly  anxious  to  see  and  hear  everything  that  was  go- 
ing on  between  his  own  parts  that  his  curly  head  was  con- 
stantly popping  in ;  and  when  on  one  occasion  it  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  appear  in  disguise — wrapped  in  some  thick 
cloak  or  muffling — he  absolutely  refused  to  put  anything 
around  him  but  an  old  Kottingham  lace  curtain,  through 
which,  of  course,  every  line  and  feature  were  ridiculously 
apparent.  Joan  as  the  Magician  was  very  terrible,  especially 
when  at  one  thrilling  part  she  had  to  produce  some  music, 
which  she  did  in  a  most  flourishing  manner  on  a  comb.  She 


144  Nan. 

insisted  upon  Nan's  telling  her  how  Mrs.  Landor  had  moved 
and  walked,  feeling  sure  she  ought  to  get  some  "hints"  for 
her  own  performance ;  and  Nan  went  into  wild  fits  of  laugh- 
ter over  Joan's  grimacings  and  dancings  when  the  final  dis- 
covery is  made  that  the  Captive  is  the  Magician's  dearly 
beloved  niece. 

There  was  some  difficulty  in  managing  for  the  appearance 
of  the  Captive's  relations,  when  summoned  by  the  Magician ; 
but  here  the  back  window  came  into  requisition  —  Lance 
offering,  as  he  said,  to  "  shove  "  them  in.  Bertie  and  Alfred 
represented  these  shadowy  forms,  and  Lance  made  a  frame- 
work on  which  some  pink  tarlatan  was  stretched,  and  be- 
hind which  the  Captive's  relations  looked  a  little  more 
ghostly  than  they  had  during  the  first  rehearsals ;  but  it  was 
certainly  an  anxious  moment  when  the  Magician  said, 

11  Arise,  spirits  of  the  house  of  Gondulfo  /"  and  a  scram- 
bling noise,  suppressed  laughter,  and  labored  breathing  were 
heard  outside,  with  such  whispered  remarks  as  "  I  say,  Lance, 
you're  pinching  me !"  and  "  Oh-o-o,  that's  too  tight !"  and 
a  very  heated  and  panting  personage  would  half  tumble 
into  the  little  space  between  the  curtain  and  the  pink  tarla- 
tan screen,  while  the  Magician,  with  his  back  to  the  audi- 
ence, played  wildly  on  his  comb,  and  the  Captive  seemed  in 
a  half-fainting  condition.  However,  the  children  derived 
days  of  enjoyment  from  the  rehearsals ;  and  when  Phyllis's 


Nan.  145 

birthday  dawned,  their  condition  of  anxiety  and  excitement 
was  scarcely  less  than  if  they  were  to  appear  before  a  genu- 
ine audience. 

Lance  wrote  out  formal  invitations  to  Miss  Rolf  and  Miss 
Prior  (who  highly  disapproved  of  the  whole  thing),  to  Mrs. 
Heriot  and  Mrs.  Travers,  and  David  and  the  Blakes.  Be- 
sides their  home  party  half  a  dozen  young  friends  were  in- 
vited ;  and  the  morning  of  the  performance  was  spent  in 
decorating  the  carriage -house  with  boughs  and  trailing 
vines.  Lance  and  Nan  had  contrived  to  make  a  very  pretty 
banner,  with  Phyllis's  name  on  it,  which  they  hung  directly 
above  the  stage. 

"  I  say,  Lance,"  said  Dicksie,  as  if  a  wonderfully  happy 
thought  had  occurred  to  him,  "let's  put  on  it  'In  memory 
of  her  thirteenth  birthday  /' ' 

"  Hold  your  little  tongue,"  laughed  Lance,  from  the  top 
of  the  step-ladder.  "  Fancy  Phyl's  look  on  reading  such  a 
thing.  Come  here,  Laura,  will  you,  one  moment?" 

Laura  was  in  the  little  dressing-room  they  had  contrived 
at  one  side,  and  Lance,  from  his  perch  among  the  greens, 
could  look  directly  down  upon  her.  Nan,  at  his  side,  could 
do  the  same,  and  for  some  reason  she  could  not  define  a 
strange  feeling — like  distrust — swept  across  Nan's  mind. 

Laura  was  on  her  knees  under  one  of  the  little  windows  ; 
before  her,  on  a  chair,  was  the  looking-glass  which  they  had 


1 46  Nan. 

borrowed  from  one  of  the  bedrooms,  and  she  was  trying  the 
effect  of  various  glittering  ornaments  on  the  helmet  she  was 
to  wear  as  the  Knight. 

They  were  cheap  things ;  yet  it  was  strange,  when  every 
detail  of  their  costumes  had  been  so  openly  discussed,  that 
Laura  should  feel  it  necessary  to  go  off  by  herself  with 
something  new  to  decide  upon.  The  ornaments  were  lying 
in  an  open  paper  on  her  lap.  Nan  never  forgot  just  what 
they  looked  like. 

Laura  started,  and  looked  around  up  through  the  aperture 
where  now  only  Nan's  wistful  face  was  discernible,  Lance 
being  occupied  with  some  critical  piece  of  his  work.  Laura 
colored  scarlet  and  jumped  up,  wrapping  the  paper  jealously 
around  the  trinkets,  and  putting  them  with  rather  a  defiant 
air  into  her  pocket. 

"Lance  wants  you,"  said  Nan,  wondering  why  her  own 

voice  sounded  so  low  and  constrained. 

• 

Laura  came  out  very  quickly,  and  busied  herself  for  a 
few  moments  with  handing  Lance  what  he  wanted.  When 
Nan  descended  from  the  ladder,  she  said,  carelessly, 

"I  was  just  seeing  how  some  things  I  got — at — school 
would  look  on  my  helmet." 

"Why,"  said  Nan,  "school  is  over,  I  thought." 

"  Well,  school -girls  aren't!"  exclaimed  Laura,  positively 
angry.  "  I  meant — the  girls — " 


LAURA  TOTING  THE  NEW   ORNAMENTS  ON   HER   HELMET. 


Nan.  147 

Nan  could  not  possibly  have  told  why  an  atmosphere  that 
was  curious  and  painful  seemed  to  hang  about  the  rest  of 
that  morning.  Not  all  of  Lance's  fun,  nor  Joan's  grimacing 
and  dancing  could  dispel  it;  and  she  was  much  relieved 
when  Lance  proposed  her  walking  with  him  down  to  the 
Blakes.  He  said  he  was  afraid  "  Love  "  would  be  too  shy 
to  come,  and  they  had  better  go  and  urge  it. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Nan,  quickly,  "  Love  isn't  like  that,  Lance 
— she  is  shy,  but  it  isn't  just  that  way ;  she  and  I  have  long 
talks,  and  she  only  gets  shy  sometimes  when  she  is  giving 
me  her  advice  about  anything." 

Still  Lance  insisted  upon  the  walk ;  and  when  they  were 
well  on  their  way,  going  along  the  river  bank  leading  to  the 
boat-house,  he  stopped  suddenly  and  said, 

"  Nan,  I  feel  lately  as  if  something  queer  had  come  over 
Laura.  Can  you  think  what  it  is  ?" 

Nan  felt  more  strongly  than  anything  else  a  desire  to  do 
Laura  the  very  fullest  justice,  and  she  went  too  far  in  say- 
ing: 

"Oh,  Lance,  what  could  there  be?  You  know  Phyllis 
has  lately  had  to  send  for  Dr.  Hogers  for  her.  She  seems 
to  be  running  down,  he  said." 

Lance  put  his  lips  together  and  drew  up  his  eyebrows  in 
the  way  Nan  had  learned  to  know  meant  annoyance  or  per- 
plexity with  him. 


1 48  Nan. 

" It  isn't  that"  he  said,  shortly ;  and  Nan  was  relieved  to 
find  he  let  the  subject  drop. 

The  cousins  found  Love  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  and 
her  plump  hands  busy  making  cake.  They  went  around  by 
the  side  door,  and  Love  nodded  to  them  brightly  through 
the  vines  across  her  kitchen  window.  How  cool  and  sweet 
and  bright  it  all  looked,  was  what  both  Lance  and  Nan 
thought ;  and  Love,  in  her  clean  gingham  dress  with  a  dain- 
ty apron,  was  the  personification  of  what  you  would  call  a 
"  nice  "  little  maiden. 

She  was  evidently  pleased  by  their  coming,  and  promised 
not  to  fail  in  her  attendance  at  the  play  with  Mrs.  Travers 
and  little  David.  Lance  wanted  to  linger  for  a  chat  with 
old  Blake,  but  Nan  hurried  him  back ;  not  before  Love  had 
whispered,  "  I'm  going  to  wear  my  silk  dress !" 

"  Oh,  Lance !"  exclaimed  Nan,  with  glowing  eyes,  as  they 
left  the  cottage;  "isn't  it  worth  anything  to  be  able  to 
make  people  happy  as  Aunt  Letty  can  with  her  money? 
How  can  rich  people  ever  keep  their  money  to  themselves !" 

Lance  did  not  tell  his  little  cousin,  but  he  had  begun  to 
learn  a  great  many  lessons  from  her. 

What  Lance  had  said  of  Laura  took  deeper  root  in  Nan's 
mind  than  she  would  have  allowed.  It  was  eleven  o'clock 
when  they  got  back  to  College  Street,  and  her  first  thought 
was  to  see  Laura ;  but  she  was  np-stairs,  Joan  said,  from  be- 


Nan.  149 

hind  the  scenes,  and  on  going  to  her  door  Nan  found  it 
locked. 

A  cold  lunch  was  prepared  for  the  children,  and  Phyllis 
begged  of  them  to  eat  it  promptly. 

"  Now,  Nan — Lance — Dicksie,"  she  called  out  from  the 
second  landing  on  the  stairs, "  do  come  down ;  because  remem- 
ber all  there  is  to  be  done  to-day  and  this  evening  besides." 
For  in  the  evening  Phyllis  was  to  have  a  "  grown-up  "  party, 
at  which  the  children  had,  one  and  all,  permission  to  assist. 

Down  scurried  the  children,  full  of  delightful  excitement, 
even  Laura  looking  a  little  brighter  as  they  assembled  in  the 
dining-room  where  Phyllis,  never  to  be  flurried  or  put  out 
of  temper,  quietly  dispensed  bread  and  butter  and  cakes  and 
cold  meat. 

After  this  came  the  rush  to  the  carriage-house,  the  doorg 
of  which  were  now  resplendent  with  large  sheets  of  paper 
bearing  in  red  paint  the  following  words : 

THE  CAPTIVE  AND  THE  KNIGHT 
A  MAGICAL  PLAY 

IN   TWO   ACTS 

BY  Miss  LAURA  ROLF 

IN    HONOR   OF 

THE  BIRTHDAY  OF 
Miss  PHYLLIS  ROLF 

AT 

2  O'Clock. 


Nan. 

Several  of  the  young  invited  guests  had  gathered  about 
the  carriage-house,  and  watched  with  interest  the  rush  of 
the  performers  towards  it.  Laura  was  in  a  mood  of  evident 
excitement,  and  hurried  into  the  dressing-room,  taking  up 
her  costume  of  paper  muslin  and  silver  paper,  here  and 
there  fastening  upon  it  some  little  dangling  bits  of  tinsel 
which — how,  she  could  not  afterwards  tell — impressed  them' 
selves  in  color  and  shape  upon  Nan's  mind. 

The  barn-doors  were  flung  open  at  the  appointed  time ; 
the  guests  were  assembled  in  a  few  moments,  and  the  play 
began. 

Joan  was  quite  the  success  of  the  piece;  Laura  was  too 
conscious ;  Nan  too  much  given  to  bursts  of  laughter  quite 
out  of  keeping  with  a  Princess  in  captivity ;  and  the  usual 
scrimmages  took  place  with  the  spirits  of  the  Princess's  rela^ 
tions.  One  horrible  moment  occurred  when  Bertie,  being 
flung  too  violently  into  the  window,  upset  the  pink  screen, 
and  called  out — 

"  There,  Lance,  I  told  you  I  would  !"  This  produced  a 
laugh,  of  course,  but  it  was  quelled  by  a  most  awful  look 
from  Joan,  who,  as  the  Magician,  had  painted  her  face  in  a 
way  which  made  her  expression  very  unpleasant,  and  cer- 
tainly she  had  the  desired  effect  upon  the  laughing  audience 
when  she  turned  it  towards  them. 

The  play  ended,  the  children  who  had  looked  on  re- 


Nan.  151 

mained  outside  waiting  for  the  Rolfs  to  appear.  Nan  dashed 
into  the  dressing-room  to  enjoy  a  good  laugh,  where  she 
found  Laura  hastily  putting  away  the  ornaments  which  had 
decked  her  helmet  and  flowing  cloak. 

"Oh — why  do  you  take  them  off?"  exclaimed  Nan. 

"  Because  I  want  to !"  snapped  Laura.  She  was  dressed 
first  and  hurried  out.  Nan  was  just  folding  up  the  last  of 
her  stage  finery  when  she  saw  one  of  Laura's  ornaments  on 
the  floor.  She  picked  it  up,  thinking  how  vexed  her  cousin 
would  be  to  lose  even  one  of  the  pretty  things ;  but  when 
she  went  out  into  the  barn  Laura  had  vanished.  Nan  put 
it  into  her  pocket  until  she  should  find  her  cousin ;  but  an 
hour  later  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  How  much  reason 
she  had  to  regret  it  later ! 


152  Nan. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 

"  DOES  it  rain  here  often  in  the  autumn  ?" 

It  was  Nan  who  asked  the  question  as  she  sat  perched  in 
the  window  of  Mrs.  Heriot's  store-room,  while  that  good 
woman  was  busy  bottling  the  last  of  her  preserves.  The 
store-room  was  hardly  on  a  lower  floor  than  the  dining-room 
and  black- walnut  parlor ;  that  is  to  say,  it  opened  off  a  little 
corridor  reached  by  a  descent  of  only  three  steps,  and  Nan 
was  always  ready  to  spend  an  hour  there  with  Mrs.  Heriot 
or  Susan,  for  there  was  a  peculiar  fascination  about  the 
shelves,  and  the  big,  deep  window  with  its  little  flap  of  cur- 
tain, and  the  space  between  the  cupboards,  where  were  a 
large,  low  table  and  two  big,  old-fashioned  chairs.  Some- 
times Nan  had  helped  Mrs.  Heriot  pare  apples  or  peaches 
there,  and  one  delightful  day  she  and  Joan  had  helped  label 
preserve  -  jars  and  stick  cloves  into  the  pickled  pears.  In 
these  last  they  had  made  various  initials  with  the  cloves,  in- 
tending to  keep  a  keen  eye  open  all  winter  for  their  reap- 
pearance. 

. "  Does  it  rain  often  T  rejoined  Mrs.  Heriot,  looking  up 


Nan.  153 

absent-mindedly  from  her  work.  "  Well,  I  don't  know 
what  you'd  call  often.  Where  I  came  from  in  England  we 
thought  nothing  of  ten  days'  rain  together ;  but  then — don't 
bother,  child ! — Christmas  will  bring  you  a  good  frost  and 
maybe  some  skating." 

"  Oh,  Christmas !"  exclaimed  Nan.  She  rubbed  a  clear 
place  on  the  window-pane  and  looked  out.  Everywhere 
the  lawns  and  garden-beds  were  drenched,  and  there  was  a 
melancholy  sound  in  the  half-leafless  trees.  Yet  Nan  felt 
very  happy.  She  had  so  much  to  fill  her  life  nowadays 
that  even  rainy  days  were  pleasant.  It  was  assuredly  a 
cause  of  regret  that  Lance  had  been  sent  to  school  in  Paris, 
and  Nan  had  to  feel  sorry  that  Lanra  was  not  well ;  but 
Laura  had  never  been  her  playfellow,  and,  besides,  of  late 
she  had  been  more  than  ever  distant;  Joan  remained  the 
happy,  brisk,  loving  Joan  of  the  spring  and  summer  time; 
and,  best  of  all,  she  had  succeeded  admirably  with  her 
charges,  Mrs.  Travers  and  little  David.  Every  week  the 
accounts  were  satisfactory.  Even  Miss  Prior  was  beginning 
to  look  kindly  upon  it,  and  so  pleased  was  Aunt  Letty  that 
there  was  talk  of  Nan's  doing  something  more  extensive 
next  year.  Phyllis  was  no  longer  supercilious  about  it,  or, 
at  least,  she  only  smiled  in  her  peculiar  way  once  in  a  while ; 
and  Nan  had  grown  to  be  really  good  friends  with  Love 
Blake,  all  through  that  first  meeting.  Love  had  given  her 


154  Nan. 

the  soundest  kind  of  counsel,  encouraged  her  when  she  felt 
sad,  and  even  helped  her  in  purchases.  Now,  Nan  knew 
that  to  her  cousin  Phyllis  Rolf  the  boatman's  daughter 
seemed  a  very  ordinary  person,  yet  Nan  felt  a  clinging  to 
her  friendship  with  h.er,  and  Miss  Rolf  had  never  inter- 
fered. She  had  never  murmured,  like  Phyllis,  that  it  was 
a  common  taste,  and  Nan  felt  that  little  Love,  with  her 
quiet,  peaceful  eyes,  and  her  ready,  unselfish  heart,  could 
teach  her  many  very  noble  lessons. 

"  There  is  Susan  calling,"  said  Nan,  suddenly.  Mrs. 
Heriot  put  her  pickle- jar  down  and  listened,  and  at  that 
moment  Susan  appeared,  quite  breathless,  in  the  doorway. 

"Oh,  Miss  Annice!"  she  said,  "it's  your  aunt's  carriage 
come  for  you.  She's  in  College  Street,  and  you  are  to  go 
at  once,  if  you  please,  miss." 

Nan  sprang  down  from  her  perch.  She  could  not  have 
said  why,  yet  an  undefined  dread  took  sudden  possession  of 
her.  What  did  it  mean  ?  She  knew  Miss  Rolf  had  gone 
out  shopping;  but  why  should  she  have  sent  for  her  to 
come  to  College  Street  ? 

"  Is  Laura  ill  ?"  asked  Nan,  trembling,  as  she  hurried  up- 
stairs to  put  on  her  things.  But  no  one  seemed  able  to  an- 
swer. It  was  the  only  emergency  she  could  think  of ;  for 
of  all  the  College  Street  cousins  Laura  was  the  only  sickly 
one. 


Nan.  155 

Nan  hardly  knew — long  afterwards  it  was  difficult  to  re- 
member— just  how  she  got  into  the  carriage,  and,  with  that 
nameless  dread  upon  her,  was  driven  down  the  familiar 
streets.  It  was  fast  growing  dark,  and  the  wet  pavements 
shone  under  the  street  lamps.  The  little  girl  in  the  car- 
riage strained  her  gaze  against  the  window-pane,  looking 
out  eagerly  for  the  iron  gateway  and  the  galleried  wing  of 
the  pleasant  house.  But  everything  was  curiously  quiet  as 
she  went  in,  and,  according  to  custom,  Nan  ran  up-stairs  to 
lay  off  her  things  in  Joan's  room.  After  all,  there  was 
nothing  so  remarkable  in  being  sent  for  to  a  house  which 
she  was  in  and  out  of  every  other  day.  Nan  smiled  at 
her  own  fears  as  she  pushed  open  the  door  of  the  girls' 
room.  . 

The  darkness  was  not  absolute  here.  Nan  could  see  a 
figure  on  the  bed ;  and  Laura's  face,  white  and  haggard, 
started  up  from  the  pillows.  On  seeing  Nan  she  gave  a  little 
shudder,  buried  her  face  again,  and  then  looked  up  with  a 
strained,  feverish  gaze. 

All  Nan's  tender  heart  was  filled  with  pity.  "Oh,  Laura, 
darling,"  she  said,  hastening  to  the  side  of  the  little  bed, 
"  what  is  it — are  you  worse  ?" 

But  Laura  shrank  back  a  moment,  and  then  said,  in  a 
hoarse  voice,  entirely  unlike  her  own,  "Nan!  Nan!  listen 
to  me :  if  you  tell  of  me  you  will  kill  me !" 


156  Nan. 

""What, /tell  of  you !"  exclaimed  Nan.  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"  Oh,  oh !"  moaned  Laura,  moving  restlessly  about  in  the 
bed.  "  I  am  so  ill,  what  can  I  do  ?  Go  down-stairs,  Nan — 
you  will  hear — go  down." 

Wonderingly,  Nan  laid  aside  her  hat  and  jacket  and  went 
down  the  stairs.  Midway  she  met  Phyllis,  who  stopped  and 
looked  at  her  very  strangely.  There  was  only  the  light  of 
the  hall-lamp  on  the  faces  of  the  two  cousins,  but  it  showed 
Phyllis's  full  of  pain  and  anxiety,  and  Nan's  fearless,  sweet 
glance  raised  to  hers,  now  only  touched  by  something  won- 
dering and  perplexed. 

Phyllis  gazed  earnestly  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Go  to 
Aunt  Letty  in  the  study,  Nan."  She  added,  in  an  instant, 
"  I  know  you  will  make  it  all  right." 

"What—?"  asked  bewildered  little  Nan;  but  Phyllis 
passed  swiftly  on,  and  Nan  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  seek 
Aunt  Letty  in  the  small  library,  known  as  the  study. 
When  she  opened  the  door  of  that  room  it  was  a  relief 
to  find  Miss  Rolf  seated  in  the  window,  alone. 


Nan. 


'57 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Miss  ROLF  made  a  quick  movement  as  Kan  shut  the  door 
quietly  after  her,  and  as  the  little  girl  stood  still,  hesitating- 
ly, in  the  twilight,  she  exclaimed : 

"  Come  here,  Annice,  there  is  something  I  want  you  to 
explain  at  once — come,  come." 

Miss  Rolf  seemed  feverishly  impatient,  and  unlike  her- 
self. Nan  saw  in  her  hands  a  long  bill  headed  by  Ames's 
mark  and  address. 

"  I  have  got  in  the  account,"  Miss  Rolf  continued. 
"  There  are  things  here — oh,  Annice !"  the  old  lady  ex- 
claimed, piteously,  "if  you  wanted  anything — a  new  sash, 
or  even  those  tinsel  things,  or  lace  collarettes — why  didn't 
you  tell  me !  It  would  have  been  so  much  better  than  to 
buy  them  in  secret." 

"//"  Nan  gasped  out  the  word.  She  was  more  bewil- 
dered than  ever. 

"  Look !"  exclaimed  Miss  Rolf  again,  imperiously.  "  Read 
this."  And  she  pushed  the  long  bill  towards  the  child. 

Nan  mechanically  took  it  in  her  hands  and  began  reading 


158  Nan. 

as  well  as  she  could.  Scattered  among  the  articles  she  had 
purchased  for  the  Traverses  were  various  others,  unknown 
to  her — pink  sash-ribbon,  lace  collarettes,  collars,  cuffs,  tinsel 
ornaments,  beads — the  number  and  the  strangeness  of  it  be- 
wildered poor  Nan,  while  her  aunt  threateningly  stood  over 
her.  Suddenly,  like  an  awful  shock,  as  it  were  from  the 
very  heavens,  it  flashed  over  her :  She  had  seen  these  very 
things  in  Laura? s  possession  ! 

"What  it  all  meant  Nan  could  not  even  then  tell,  but, 
coupled  with  Laura's  wild  supplications  "  not  to  tell  of  her," 
she  felt  there  was  guilt  somewhere,  and  that  not  her  own. 
Nan  was  too  young  to  be  entirely  self-possessed  or  equal  to 
knowing  what  to  do.  The  paper  shook  in  her  hands.  What 
could  she  do  or  say  ?  Little  by  little  occasions  came  back 
to  her  mind  when  she  had  seen  Laura  quickly  hiding  these 
things.  And  the  tinsel  ornaments !  How  clearly  Nan  now 
understood  what  Laura's  anxiety  to  hide  them  after  the  play 
had  meant ! 

For  Nan  those  moments  were  horrible.  What  could 
she  do?  It  was  not  in  her  heart  or  nature  suddenly  to 
speak  and  condemn  her  cousin.  But  there  was  Aunt  Letty 
waiting,  with  her  features  all  drawn  and  haggard,  all  too 
anxious  to  restore  Nan  to  favor,  yet  evidently  thinking  the 
worst. 

"  Oh  1"  cried  Nan,  suddenly,  looking  up  wildly  at  her  aunt, 


Nan.  159 

"please — let  me  wait  a  moment;  give  me  a  few  moments 
and  I  can  tell  you." 

She  flung  down  the  paper  and  started  up  the  stairs  to 
Laura's  room.  It  was  dark,  and  yet  she  could  see  the  white 
face  on  the  pillow,  and  hear  Laura  moan.  She  flung  herself 
down  beside  the  bed,  whispering,  "  Oh,  Laura,  I  must  tell, 
you  know — you  know !  Oh,  let  me  tell  them !" — her  voice 
broke  down  in  sobs. 

"  You  shall  not !"  whispered  Laura  back.  "  You  will  kill 
me  if  you  do.  Wait  a  little  while.  You  must  not !" 

Laura  really  grew  faint,  and  Nan  looked  at  her,  half  in 
pity,  half  in  contempt. 

"  And  you  will  not  own  to  it  ?"  Nan  asked,  slowly. 

But  Laura  only  buried  her  face  and  sobbed  convulsively. 
Had  not  Phyllis  appeared  Nan  would  have  said  more ;  but 
on  seeing  her  older  cousin  the  little  girl  turned  and  left  the 
room,  returning  to  the  study.  "What  was  there  for  her  to 
do  or  to  say  ?  She  could  not  tell.  How  could  she  blame 
Laura  ?  how  stand  up  and  disgrace  her  cousin — Phyllis's  sis- 
ter ? — and  even  were  she  to  do  so,  would  she  be  believed  ? 
And  Laura  really  ill,  worn  out,  Nan  did  not  now  doubt,  by 
her  wretched  secret. 

Everything  seemed  to  be  in  a  whirl  about  her  as  she  re- 
entered  the  study,  where  Miss  Rolf  still  stood  as  she  had 
left  her. 


1 60  Nan. 

"  Well  ?"     The  old  lady  spoke  sharply. 

But  Nan,  for  the  first  time,  only  hung  her  head. 

"  Explain  this,  Annice,"  her  aunt  said,  coldly. 

Nan  tried  to  find  her  voice,  and  failed.  Then  she  said, 
slowly,  "  I  cannot." 

"  Is  it  that  you  will  not  ?"  demanded  her  aunt. 

No  answer. 

"Annice,  did  you  hear  me?" 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Letty." 

"  And  can  you  not  answer  ?" 

"No." 

Nan's  voice  sounded  even  to  herself  a  far-away  whisper. 
There  was  silence  for  a  moment — silence,  at  least,  in  the  little 
room.  Outside  the  rain  beat  furiously,  and  for  a  long  time 
Annice  Rolf  never  heard  the  same  sound  without  a  recollec- 
tion of  the  faint,  sick  feeling  that  possessed  her,  as  she  stood 
with  bowed  head  before  her  aunt. 

"  You  may  go,"  said  Miss  Rolf,  presently.  "  Go  home 
at  once  in  the  carriage,  and  send  it  back  for  me.  And  go 
at  once  to  your  room.  Do  you  hear,  Annice  ?  Go  at  once." 

It  seemed  like  a  dream  to  Nan — her  going  up  the  stairs, 
knocking  at  Laura's  door,  and  mechanically  asking  Phyllis 
for  her  things.  How  she  put  them  on ;  how  she  got  into 
the  carriage  and  gave  her  aunt's  orders ;  how  she  drove  home 
through  the  dark,  wet  streets,  and  reached  the  house  and 


Nan.  161 

her  own  little  room — seemed  afterwards  all  recollections  in 
the  rnists  of  a  nightmare.  But  there  she  was  at  last,  in  the 
window  of  her  room,  and  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
Oh,  for  one  word  with  Lance,  or  Love  Blake !  And  if  Laura 
should  never  tell !  And  in  the  midst  of  all,  and,  I  rejoice  to 
say,  the  very  worst  of  all  seemed  to  Nan  to  lie  in  the  fact 
of  Laura's  double  deceit.  What  could  have  induced  her  to 
it?  "Wayward,  thoughtless,  forgetful  as  was  Nan,  her  con- 
science was  unstained  by  any  actual  sin,  and  not  for  worlds 
could  she  have  been  tempted  to  a  lie. 


1 62  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

IT  seemed  to  Nan  hours  afterwards  that  she  heard  her 
aunt's  step  along  the  corridor  pause  a  moment  near  her 
door,  and  go  on  to  her  own  room.  The  door  closed ;  the 
house  was  still.  Nan  crept  wretchedly  into  bed,  and  cried 
herself  to  sleep.  There  was  no  one  to  advise  her,  and  she 
could  only  pray  in  an  agonized,  dumb  sort  of  way ;  but  God 
can  hear  thoughts  as  well  as  words,  and  it  had  comforted 
her  that  she  had  asked  his  help.  To  Kan  it  seemed  as  if 
black  despair  would  settle  upon  her,  for  she  gradually  in- 
duced herself  to  believe  that  it  would  be  cruelly  wrong 
to  "  tell  of  "  Laura.  Surely,  some  day  they  would  know 
the  rights  of  it;  but  meanwhile,  how  was  she  to  endure 
her  life?  All  her  former  loneliness  returned  upon  her. 
She  lay  there  in  the  bed,  feeling  as  forlorn  as  the  first  night 
of  her  arrival,  and  she  would  have  given  all  she  hoped  to 
own  to  disentangle  this  mystery ;  for,  in  one  sense,  mystery 
it  was.  How  and  why  had  Laura  contrived  to  put  those 
things  on  her  bill?  Nan's  brain — exhausted  from  bewilder- 
ment, and  at  best  only  a  little  fourteen-year-old  brain — re- 
fused to  solve  the  question. 


Nan.  163 

She  awoke  to  find  her  room  full  of  sunlight,  and  Mrs. 
Heriot  standing  over  her  with  a  grieved  face. 

Nan  raised  her  head ;  the  tears  of  the  night  still  stained 
her  cheeks,  and  there  were  signs  of  weeping  in  good  Mrs. 
Heriot's  eyes  as  well. 

"  My  child,"  she  said,  tenderly, "  whatever  has  happened  ? 
Miss  Kolf  doesn't  want  to  tell  me,  but  it's  something  you 
won't  own  to  her ;  now  do  it — do  it,  dear,  I  say." 

Nan  looked  up  wistfully. 

" / cannot"  was  all  she  could  say. 

Mrs.  Heriot  turned  away  to  the  window  with  a  sigh. 

Nan  lay  still,  trying  to  think  what  to  do ;  but  now  there 
was  only  one  idea  predominating.  She  must  guard  Laura's 
secret  until  she  chose  to  tell  it.  Had  Nan  been  wiser  or 
older,  she  would  at  once  have  taken  her  aunt  into  her 
full  confidence,  well  knowing  that  so  true  and  kind  a 
nature  as  Miss  Rolf's  would  never  deal  unjustly;  but 
then,  all  Nan  felt  was  that  a  sense  of  honor  demanded  her 
silence. 

"  Then  I'm  afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Heriot,  turning  from  the 
window,  "  you'll  not  see  your  aunt  the  day.  I  was  to  come 
and  ask  you.  Am  I  to  just  tell  her  you  cannot  f" 

Nan  tearfully  nodded,  and  slowly  Mrs.  Heriot  left  the 
room.  When  she  returned,  Nan  was  sitting,  dressed,  in  the 
window. 


164  Nan. 

"  You're  to  go  to  breakfast,"  said  Mrs.  Heriot.  "  But  your 
aunt  says  you're  not  to  speak  to  her." 

What  a  ineal  it  was !  It  seemed  to  choke  poor  Nan,  who 
gladly  escaped  even  to  Miss  Prior,  and  for  the  first  time  she 
plunged  ardently  into  her  lessons ;  but  Miss  Prior  did  not 
believe  in  praise,  so  she  gave  none,  only  Nan's  unusual  zeal 
made  the  study-hours  more  tranquil.  Miss  Rolf  did  not 
appear  at  dinner  nor  at  tea.  The  intervening  time  Nan 
passed  miserably  in  her  own  room.  After  tea  she  was  sent 
for  to  the  black-walnut  parlor,  where  she  found  her  aunt  at 
her  desk. 

"  Nan,"  she  said,  very  gravely,  "  I  wish  to  tell  you  that — 
making  no  remark  about  what  I  must  say  I  consider  your 
dishonest  conduct — I  paid  the  bill  at  Ames's.  This,  I  hope, 
will  lead  you  to  a  candid  and  full  confession  to  me.  You 
must  know  that  the  credit  was  only  given  for  articles  to  be 
bought  by  you  for  the  Traverses.  In  looking  over  your 
clothes — your  summer  clothes — to-day,  I  found  this  in  one 
of  your  pockets."  Nan  started  as  her  aunt  held  up  the  lit- 
tle tinsel  ornament  she  remembered  having  picked  up  that 
day  long  ago  in  the  carriage-house.  "  Of  course,"  contin- 
ued Miss  Rolf,  "  this  only  confirmed  what  your  silence  indi- 
cated." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  a  sound  of  sobbing 
rose  in  Nan's  throat. 


Nan.  165 

"  Have  you  nothing  to  say,  Annice  ?"  asked  her  aunt, 
very  sadly. 

But  Nan  could  only  shake  her  head,  and  say  "  No." 

"Will  you  tell  me  nothing  of  it?" 

"  I  cannot,"  again  said  Nan. 

"  Go,"  answered  her  aunt,  standing  up  quickly.  "  Go ! 
It  is  a  terrible  blow  to  me,  child,  to  be  so  disappointed  in 
you." 

Nun  turned,  and  fled  along  the  hall  up  to  her  own  room. 
It  seemed  to  her  as  if  some  strong  decision  had  been  made 
by  Miss  Rolf  as  she  spoke  the  last  words,  and  so  the  next 
morning  proved.  Mrs.  Heriot  came  to  her  while  she  was 
at  her  lessons,  and  called  her  into  the  hall.  Then  she  said, 
in  a  quiet  voice,  which  Nan  did  not  know  was  full  of  half- 
suppressed  tears, 

"My  dear,  you're  to  go  back  to  Bromn'eld.  There  — 
don't  be  so  startled.  Your  aunt  means  to  pay  your  board 
and  have  you  taught ;  but  you're  to  go  to-morrow." 

Poor  little  Nan !  What  could  she  do  or  say  ?  She  did 
not  see  her  aunt  again.  Through  Mrs.  Heriot  she  begged 
to  see  Joan,  or  Mrs.  Travers  and  David,  but  this  was  denied 
her ;  and  on  the  next  morning,  while  she  was  again  sitting 
forlornly  in  her  room,  Mrs.  Heriot  brought  her  the  follow- 
ing note,  written  in  Miss  Rolfs  delicate,  old-fashioned 
hand: 


1 66  Nan. 

"I  cannot  trust  myself  to  see  you,  my  child.  It  would 
grieve  me  too  much.  I  am  sending  you  back  to  Bromfield, 
where  your  board  will  be  paid  and  a  suitable  sum  allowed 
for  your  schooling  and  clothing.  I  do  not  think  it  wise  for 
you  to  go  to  a  school  while  you  have  your  present  ideas  of 
honor.  Do  all  you  can  to  improve  your  mind ;  and,  above 
all,  pray  to  God  to  spare  you  further  wrong-doing.  Your 
step-aunt,  Mrs.  Rupert,  is  expecting  you.  She  knows  noth- 
ing of  what  you  have  done." 

Nan  read  the  letter  in  a  dazed,  stupefied  way,  sitting  in 
the  window  of  her  once  homelike  room  ;  but  now  all  seemed 
curiously  changed.  Was  that  the  same  garden  she  had 
looked  at  the  other  day?  Were  these  her  clothes  lying 
about,  which  Mrs.  Heriot  was  silently  folding  and  packing  ? 
It  was  a  strange  morning  in  Nan's  life ;  but  when,  later  in 
the  day,  she  found  herself  being  driven  away  from  Rolf 
House  with  Mrs.  Heriot,  all  her  repressed  feelings  gave 
way.  She  flung  herself  upon  the  good  woman's  shoulder 
and  burst  into  tears.  Not  one  good-bye  even!  Not  one 
parting  glimpse  of  Joan's  kindly  little  face !  Not  one  word 
with  David  and  Mrs.  Travers !  Oh,  it  seemed  a  cruel  end- 
ing of  her  beautiful,  happy  life  ! 


Nan.  167 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

EVENING  usually  found  Mrs.  Eupert  very  tired  and  rather 
cross.  On  days  that  trade  was  not  brisk  she  was  apt  to  be 
particularly  acid  in  her  manner,  and  on  this  October  even- 
ing things  were  in  a  very  unpleasant  "  condition  of  work- 
ing," as  she  called  them.  To  begin  with,  Marian  had  gone 
to  spend  the  day  with  a  friend,  and  had  not  returned.  Mary 
and  Georgie,  the  two  younger  children,  had  been  very 
troublesome  going  to  bed,  and,  to  crown  everything,  the  gas 
would  not  light,  so  that  Mrs.  Rupert  had  been  compelled  to 
run  out  herself  for  oil  and  get  ready  two  lamps — one  for 
the  Store  and  one  for  the  parlor. 

Nan  was  expected  back.  Mrs.  Rupert,  as  she  poked  the 
miserable  little  fire  in  the  sitting-room,  wondered  why  this 
rearrangement  had  been  made.  It  was  a  great  considera- 
tion, of  course,  to  have  her  board  paid  ;  but  why,  if  her  aunt 
had  intended  to  make  her  her  heiress,  should  she  be  returned 
to  Bromfield  ? 

"I  know  how  it  will  end,"  thought  Mrs.  Rupert,  nodding 
her  head  sagely ;  "  the  old  lady'll  die  and  leave  her  quite  on 
my  hands  again." 


1 68  Nan. 

It  was  only  five  o'clock,  but  dark  as  any  winter  evening ; 
and  as  the  carriage  from  the  station,  containing  Nan  and 
Mrs.  Heriot,  drove  to  the  door,  the  little  house  and  store 
looked  dismal  enough. 

"  Eh !  my,  is  this  the  place  ?"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Heriot. 

Nan  could  not  answer — her  heart  was  too  full.  She  fol- 
lowed Mrs.  Heriot  out  of  the  carriage,  and  showed  her  the 
way  to  the  house  -  door,  which  was  speedily  opened  upon 
Mrs.  Rupert's  portly  figure  and  large  face. 

"  Well,  Nan  Rojf !"  was  her  greeting.  A  stare  at  Mrs. 
Heriot  was  followed  by  "  And  who  is  this,  may  I  ask  ?" 

"  My  name  is  Heriot,  rna'am,"  was  the  very  bland  answer ; 
"I  was  sent  by  Miss  Rolf  here  with  Miss  Annice.  And 
now,  my  dear,"  she  added,  standing  inside  the  dingy  hall- 
way for  a  moment  only,  "  I  think  I'll  just  leave  you  and 
go.  Good-bye,  love  " — with  a  hearty  kiss  which  Nan  pas- 
sionately returned ;  "  do  you  mind  and  write  to  your  aunt 
soon."  And  almost  before  Nan  knew  how  it  was  done,  the 
door  had  closed,  and  she  was  alone  with  her  step-aunt. 

Mrs.  Rupert  led  the  way  up  the  well-known  stairs  and 
into  the  sitting-room,  which  it  seemed  to  Nan  she  must 
have  left  ages  ago,  instead  of  only  six  months  since.  How 
dingy  and  disorderly  it  looked  after  the  quiet  neatness  and 
comfort  of  Rolf  House !  The  fact  of  Mrs.  Rupert's  trade 
and  moderate  circumstances  was  not  the  excuse  for  this. 


Nan.  1 69 

Nan  knew  better  now.  Was  not  Mr.  Blake  far  poorer,  and 
only  a  boatman  ?  and  yet  how  dainty  and  sweet  were  all  of 
Love's  surroundings.  No,  this  was  all  due  to  the  nat- 
ure of  Mrs.  Rupert  herself,  and  Nan  had  seen  enough  of 
the  world  to  appreciate  this  keenly. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Rupert,  setting  the  lamp  down  on  the 
table, "  I  don't  suppose  you  expected  to  be  back  from  your 
fine  relations  so  soon,  Miss  Nan — did  you  ?  I'm  sure  I 
don't  think  the  board  she's  to  pay  is  so  much." 

"Oh,  aunt!"  cried  poor  Nan,  blushing,  "don't  —  please 
don't  speak  of  that — I'll  work ;  I'll  do  what  I  can." 

"  Oh,  you  will,  will  you  ?"  said  Mrs.  Rupert,  turning 
around,  with  a  laugh.  "  Well,  we'll  see.  Now,  I  suppose 
you  want  some  supper." 

In  spite  of  her  woes,  Nan  was  hungry,  and  was  very  hon- 
estly glad  of  the  plate  of  hot  sausages  and  potatoes  and  the 
pie  Mrs.  Rupert  placed  before  her.  Her  step-aunt  plied  her 
with  questions  about  her  life  at  Rolf  House,  all  of  which 
she  answered  so  listlessly  that  at  last  Mrs.  Rupert  jumped 
up,  exclaiming : 

"  Well,  I  d'know  as  I  ever  took  much  stock  in  those  peo- 
ple. Make  up  your  mind  they've  thrown  you  off  once  and 
for  all.  And,  Nan,  see  here:  I  don't  believe  as  you'll  get 
more  than  a  year's  board  and  schooling  out  of  them;  and 
I've  made  my  mind  up  as  you'd  oughter  learn  some  trade. 


Nan. 

I  can't  keep  you,  and  there's  nothing  else  for  you  to  do,  as 
I  can  see." 

Poor  Nan!  It  struck  her  only  too  forcibly  that  this 
might  be  the  case,  and  she  spent  a  wretched  and,  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  rather  a  rebellious  evening,  considering 
her  future.  One  comforting  feature  was  in  her  new  life  at 
Bromfield :  she  had  a  room  to  herself.  It  was  only  one  of 
the  attic  rooms,  bare  and  miserably  gloomy,  but  it  was  all 
her  own.  There  she  felt  she  could  sometimes  be  free  from 
intrusion.  It  would  be  a  place  to  think  of  Lance  and  Joan 
in ;  perhaps  a  place  to  cry  in. 

She  helped  Mrs.  Kupert  up-stairs  with  her  trunk,  and  be- 
fore she  went  to  bed  unpacked  her  little  belongings,  trying 
to  arrange  them  with  Eolf  House  precision  in  the  small 
bureau  and  cupboard.  Oh,  for  one  hour  in  Beverley  !  "When 
her  aunt  left  her,  Nan  pressed  her  face  against  the  window 
looking  out  on  the  weedy,  dank  garden,  and  felt  as  if  her 
heart  would  break.  Much  as  she  desired  to  be  alone,  it 
was  a  relief  to  hear  Marian's  high  -  pitched  voice,  about 
eight  o'clock,  when  that  young  person  burst  into  the 
room. 

"  Well,  Nan !"  she  exclaimed,  kissing  her  rather  boister- 
ously ;  "  I  do  declare,  who'd  have  ever  expected  you  back  ?" 

Nan  tried  to  laugh.  "  I  hope  you're  not  sorry,  Marian," 
she  said,  quietly. 


Nan. 


171 


"Oh,  no;  I  don't  suppose  I  am,"  rejoined  her  cousin, 
"  unless  you're  too  fine  a  lady  to  suit  our  ways." 

"  I  don't  think  I'm  a  fine  lady,"  said  Nan,  laughing. 

Marian  sat  down  on  the  little  bed,  and  stared  some  time 
at  Nan. 

"  "Well,  you're  changed  some,"  she  remarked,  finally ;  and 
then,  standing  up  and  giving  her  dress  various  little  perks, 
she  continued,  "Do  you  think  Fm  changed?" 

"  Yes,"  ?aid  Nan,  very  honestly. 

In  the  six  months  Marian  had  developed  into  what  she 
considered  constituted  a  "young  lady."  She  was  only  fif- 
teen, but  she  had  left  school,  was  in  a  dressmaking  establish- 
ment, and  had  acquired  all  the  most  pernicious  airs  and 
graces  of  her  companions.  She  wore  the  latest  fashions  in 
cheap  imitations ;  had  "  banged  "  her  pretty  blonde  hair  so 
low  over  her  eyes  that  every  bit  of  the  smooth,  white  brow 
was  concealed;  screwed  in  her  waist  until  her  shoulders 
and  hips  looked  like  caricatures,  and  wore  a  great  deal  of 
tawdry  lace,  cheap  jet,  and  imitation  jewelry.  Marian  had 
always  been  a  pretty  girl,  and,  but  for  her  vulgarity  and 
false  taste  in  dress,  would  have  been  prettier  than  ever — 
but  Nan,  looking  at  her,  wondered  what  Love  Blake  would 
say  to  her !  Love,  with  her  pretty  brown  silk,  so  simply 
made,  her  snowy  collars  and  cuffs,  her  smooth,  untortured 
brow. 


172  Nan. 

"  The  girls  aic  our  place  are  awfully  stylish,"  Marian  said, 
evidently  thinking  she  had  made  a  profound  impression 
upon  her  cousin, "  and  we  have  to  dress  a  great  deal,  I  can 
tell  you.  Well,  good-night,  Nan !  Dear,  what  a  sober  face 
you  have !" 

And  Marian,  laughing  loudly,  ran  out  of  the  room  and 
down  the  stairs,  humming  bits  of  "  Champagne  Charlie,"  a 
song  just  then  coming  into  vogue. 

"  What  would  her  life  here  be  ?"  Nan  questioned  herself, 
lying  in  the  dark,  long  after  the  house  was  still.  She  had 
not  known  until  now  how  much  the  quiet,  refined  associa- 
tions of  her  life  in  Beverley  had  done  for  her.  Now,  all 
that  she  had  seen  jarred  upon  every  nerve.  And  was  it 
just?  Then  there  came  into  Nan's  mind  the  words  of  a 
little  hymn  Love  was  fond  of  singing — 

"God's  time  for  waiting 
Shall  be  mine." 

"Oh,  can  it  be?"  thought  poor  little  Nan,  closing  her 
eyes  tightly;  but  the  words  were  like  a  prayer,  and  she 
tried  with  honesty  to  repeat  "  Shall  be  mine." 


Nan.  173 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PHILIP'S  absence  from  home  was  an  unexpected  disap- 
pointment to  Nan ;  but  the  reason  gave  her  some  comfort. 
It  appeared  that  he  had  developed  a  decided  talent  for 
paintifcg,  and  so  had  been  sent  abroad  by  the  same  gentle- 
man who  was  paying  all  his  expenses. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Mrs.  Rupert,  as  she  and  Nan  were  at 
work  the  next  morning  in  the  kitchen,  "  it's  wonderful  the 
fancy  that  Mr.  Field's  took  to  Philip.  Just  saw  him  a  few 
times,  and  put  him  to  Barnabas ;  and  now  sent  him  abroad. 
He  says  he'll  do  well.  Now  Marian,  she's  doing  splendid, 
if  only  they  don't  turn  her  head  with  compliments.  She's 
so  good-looking  and  so  stylish." 

Nan  listened,  thinking  more  of  Philip  than  of  Marian. 
She  wondered  if  he  would  ever  do  anything,  or  seem  to  do 
anything,  to  cause  Mr.  Field  to  send  him  home  in  disgrace. 
She  hoped  no  such  fate  would  befall  him. 

"  Now,  Nan,  work  smart,"  called  out  Mrs.  Rupert,  "  your 
teacher'll  be  here  soon."  And  Nan  hurried  with  the  break- 
fast dishes,  so  that  she  was  ready  for  her  new  teacher  by 
nine  o'clock. 


1 74  Nan. 

Miss  Eolf  evidently  had  employed  some  one  to  engage 
this  governess  —  a  gentle,  quiet-looking  lady  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  who  began  the  lessons  without  any  questions 
as  to  Nan's  recent  life.  Altogether,  the  morning  was  not 
unhappy,  except  that  Nan  had  grown  so  painfully  conscious 
of  the  dust  and  disorder  about  her  that  she  watched  Mrs. 
Leigh's  glance  every  time  it  rested  on  any  one  object,  feel- 
ing a  deep  sense  of  mortification. 

But  good  came  of  this.  Nan  felt  certain  she  might  make 
something  of  the  room ;  for  her  ideas  had  developed  greatly 
since  she  left  Bromfield  as  to  household  matters.  Accord- 
ingly, to  Mrs.  Rupert's  great  surprise,  she  asked  permission 
to  have  the  sitting-room  to  herself  for  an  hour  before  the 
children  returned  from  school ;  and  it  was  wonderful  what 
she  contrived  to  do.  Soap  and  water,  dusters,  and  a  broom 
made  the  place  seem  entirely  different.  And  then  Nan 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  hunt  in  the  attic  for  some  bits  of 
carpet.  These  she  managed  to  sew  in  patches  under  the 
ragged  places,  and  after  mending  a  few  tears  in  the  cur- 
tains she  felt  quite  triumphant.  It  mattered  somewhat, 
however,  that  Mrs.  Rupert  and  Marian  laughed  at  her,  and 
that  the  children  coming  home  created  fresh  disorder ;  but 
still  she  felt  conscious  of  well-doing. 

When,  after  dinner,  Nan  carried  her  books  up-stairs  to  her 
little  attic  room,  she  was  cheered  by  a  feeling  that,  in  spite 


Nan.  1 75 

of  the  misery  of  her  false  position,  she  could  do  something. 
She  would  set  herself  to  make  the  shabby  house  brighter 
and  cleaner,  and  more  homelike.  After  a  time  Mrs.  Rupert 
and  Marian  would  feel  differently  about  her  motives  in  so 
doing. 

No  one  must  suppose  that  Nan  worked  wonders  sudden- 
ly, nor  that  she  grew  very  happy  in  doing  her  little  work. 
On  the  contrary,  it  was  a  tedious  process  all  around.  It 
was  hard  to  keep  any  place  tidy  or  even  tolerably  comfort- 
able. And  her  heart  ached  for  news  of  Beverley.  Miss 
Rolf  wrote,  but  only  to  send  her  board  and  the  money 
needful  for  her  expenses ;  and  as  October  and  November 
dragged  by  Nan's  loneliness  increased.  Nothing  could  have 
been  much  more  comfortless  as  a  home  than  the  Rupert 
household;  and  Nan  used  to  think  the  "waiting  time"  was 
more  than  she  could  bear. 


1 76  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

PHYLLIS,  only,  knew  the  reason  why  Miss  Kolf  had  sent 
Nan  to  Bromfield ;  and,  as  the  winter  wore  on,  it  puzzled 
and  perplexed  her  more  and  more.  She  had  seen  a  great 
many  evidences  of  what  she  considered  a  "  common  taste  " 
in  Nan,  but  never  one  atom  of  anything  like  untruthf  ulness 
or  dishonesty.  She  often  recalled  the  glance  of  perfectly 
fearless  innocence  which  Nan  had  given  her  that  very  night 
on  the  stairs ;  and  with  this  it  seemed  harder  than  ever  to 
believe  her  guilty  of  deceit.  But  then  Phyllis  often  wound 
up  such  reflections  by  saying  to  herself,  "  It  is  the  streak  of 
common  blood  in  her  veins,  I  suppose;  it  must  come  out 
somewhere." 

If  Phyllis  was  unhappy,  Miss  Kolf  was  doubly  so.  She 
felt  a  strong  purpose  taken  right  out  of  her  life,  and  it  was 
hardening  her  into  the  cold,  reserved  woman  she  had  been 
so  long  before  Nan  crept  into  her  heart. 

One  afternoon,  shortly  before  Christmas,  Phyllis  was  sit- 
ting alone  in  her  own  room  by  the  fire,  busily  working  on 
some  present  for  the  approaching  festivity,  when  she  heard 


Nan.  177 

some  one  in  the  adjoining  room,  sobbing.  It  was  Joan,  who 
appeared  with  a  piece  of  crumpled  paper  in  her  hands,  ex- 
claiming, "  Oh,  Phyl,  this  makes  me  so  unhappy !  See,  this 
is  our  compact  of  eternal  friendship — Nan's  and  mine — and 
it's  as  bad  as  telling  a  lie  never  to  write  to  her !" 

Joan  held  out  the  little  paper  she  and  Nan  had  written 
that  May  afternoon  so  long  ago ;  and,  as  Phyllis  read  it,  the 
words  so  innocently  written,  "God  bless  this!"  woke  new 
belief  in  the  child's  honesty.  Phyllis  comforted  Joan,  all 
the  time  revolving  the  question  in  her  mind,  and  was  sud- 
denly startled  by  hearing  Joan  say, 

"  Where  has  Laura  gone,  do  you  know  ?  and  may  I  have 
this  to  make  Nan  a  Christmas  present  ?" 

She  held  up  a  piece  of  pink  satin,  from  which  some  bits 
had  been  cut,  and  a  yard  or  two  of  Valenciennes  lace. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that,  Joan  ?"  exclaimed  Phyllis. 

"  In  the  other  room,"  explained  the  tearful  Joan,  "  in  a 
little  broken  box  on  the  floor." 

Phyllis  made  no  answer;  she  arose  and  went  into  the 
next  room,  closing  the  door  after  her.  It  was  a  room  rarely 
used ;  but  since  Laura  had  been  so  delicate  she  had  often 
slept  there  to  be  near  Phyllis,  and  used  it  in  the  daytime  to 
sit  in,  so  that  her  things  were  often  about.  The  box  of 
which  Joan  spoke  lay  half  in,  half  out,  of  the  flounce  of  the 
chintz  lounge.  Phyllis  drew  it  out  with  trembling  hands. 


1 78  Nan. 

There  was  no  mistaking  its  contents.  They  were  cer- 
tainly, in  part,  the  articles  charged  to  Nan  at  Ames's  store. 

Phyllis  hardly  knew  what  to  think.  All  that  she  could 
feel  sure  of  was,  that  Laura  was  involved  in  the  affair;  but 
how  far  she  could  not  tell.  One  thing,  she  knew,  must  be 
done  at  once — that  was,  to  find  Laura  and  make  her  ex- 
plain it. 

Poor  Phyllis !  Pride  had  always  been  her  strongest  point ; 
and  belief  in  the  uprightness  of  the  children  she  had  in 
reality  brought  up  was  almost  a  sacred  thing  to  her.  How 
could  she  face  Miss  Rolf  and  say,  "  It  is  my  little  sister  who 
has,  at  least,  been  involved  in  this ;  not  only  poor  Kan,  whom 
we  pitied  because  she  had  been  badly  brought  up  ?"  And 
then  there  flashed  upon  Phyllis  a  sickening  feeling  lest, 
through  Laura,  gross  injustice  had  been  done  poor  Nan. 

"Joan,"  she  said,  looking  in  upon  her  little  sister,  "if 
Laura  has  gone  out  it  must  have  been  to  Rolf  House,  as  she 
never  goes  anywhere  else.  Pm  going  there  at  once — and 
don't  let  them  wait  tea  for  me.  I'll  be  back  as  early  as 
I  can." 

Whatever  Phyllis's  faults,  her  sense  of  what  was  justly 
due  under  sucli  circumstances  was  keen  and  pure.  Though 
feeling  half  ill  with  dread  of  what  she  might  discover,  she 
put  on  her  things  and  walked  quickly  up  College  Street  to 
Rolf  House.  Her  first  inquiry  was  if  Laura  were  there ;  and 


Nan.  1 79 

the  answer,  "  Yes,  miss,  she  is  reading  in  the  library,"  sent 
a  new  flutter  to  her  heart.  But  she  walked  straight  into 
the  room  where  Laura,  looking  very  white  and  languid,  was 
lounging  with  a  book  before  the  fire. 

"Laura,"  the  older  sister  said,  going  up  to  the  little  girl 
and  kneeling  down  beside  her,  "  I  want  you  to  tell  me  at 
once,  dear,  how  you  came  by  all  those  things  Nan  was 
supposed  to  have  bought  at  Ames's." 

Laura  stared  a  moment,  and  then  burst  into  tears ;  but  to 
Phyllis's  amazement  it  seemed  a  relieved  sort  of  weeping. 
She  rocked  back  and  forth  a  moment,  and  then  exclaimed 
between  her  sobs, 

"Oh,  Phyl — Phyl — have  you  found  out?  I'm  so  gladr 
I've  come  here  day  after  day  trying  to  confess  it.  Oh,  I 
know  how  bad  I  am — and  Nan  is  so  good !" 

Phyllis  knelt  very  still  by  her  little  sister  a  moment,  try- 
ing to  know  what  to  do  or  say.  Moral  emergencies,  some- 
how, always  baffled  her.  She  could  reprove  and  adviso 
judiciously  on  most  matters,  but  to  know  how  to  lead  a 
heart  stricken  with  remorse — a  conscience  ashamed  of  what 
it  held — was  beyond  her.  After  a  moment  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice, 

"  Lollie,  try  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

And  then  the  miserable  story  came  out.  The  girls  at 
school,  Laura  said,  were  in  the  habit  of  wearing  so  many 


180  Nan. 

little  bits  of  finery,  such  as  she  never  possessed ;  and  one 
day,  having  saved  her  pocket-money  for  a  special  ribbon, 
she  went  into  Ames's  and  bought  it.  Just  as  she  was  about 
to  pay  for  it,  the  clerk  said,  "Aren't  you  Miss  Rolf's  niece, 
who  has  things  charged  to  her  ?" 

Poor  Laura !  it  was  the  first  moment  of  temptation.  She 
answered  yes ;  had  the  ribbon  charged,  meaning  to  pay  for 
it  later,  as  in  her  ignorance  of  such  matters  she  believed  she 
could ;  and  then,  little  by  little,  the  fascination  for  buying, 
"  like  the  other  girls,"  grew  upon  her,  and  she  kept  hoping 
always  to  save  money  before  the  end  of  the  year  to  pay  it 
up,  believing  the  bill  would  not  be  presented  until  January. 
It  was,  indeed,  only  by  a  chance  that  Miss  Rolf  had  asked 
for  it  earlier.  Then  had  come  a  desperate  fit  of  terror,  and, 
believing  Nan  would  be  forgiven,  she  had  meanly  kept 
silence.  What  followed,  Phyllis  knew.  Certainly,  Laura 
told  the  whole  story  now  unreservedly. 

It  seemed  to  Phyllis  in  'that  hour  as  though  something 
in  her  very  heart  gave  way.  Nan,  for  whom  they  had  all 
secretly  entertained  a  feeling  that  she  was  not  their  equal 
—  Nan  had  shown  herself  the  bravest  and  most  upright 
of  all. 

"  Laura,"  said  poor  Phyllis, "  you  must  tell  Cousin  Letty." 
Laura  gave  a  gasp,  and  put  out  a  detaining  hand  as  Phyllis 
was  moving.  "I  will  go  first,  and  speak  to  her  about  it; 


Nan.  1 8 1 

but  she  must  know  at  once.  There  must  not  be  a  moment 
lost." 

Laura  gobbed  more  violently  than  ever;  and  Phyllis  went 
away  and  across  to  the  black-walnut  parlor,  where  she  was 
tolerably  sure  to  find  her  cousin. 

There  the  old  lady  was  seated,  with  listlessly  folded  hands, 
in  the  window  where  Nan  had  made  out  her  accounts  that 
first  evening.  She  was  looking  across  the  wintry  garden- 
beds,  and  thinking  of  the  lost  child  who  had  been  so  dear 
to  her — who  had  come  in  her  lonely  old  age,  to  open  the 
secret  springs  of  love  in  her  heart. 

Phyllis  had  a  choking  feeling  in  her  throat  as  she  went 
in,  and  for  a  moment  she  could  hardly  speak.  But  noth- 
ing could  have  been  better  than  her  first  words : 

"  Oh,  Cousin  Letitia,  I  know  all  about  it !  Nan — Nan  is 
perfectly  innocent !  She  never  deceived  you,  except  that 
she  did  not  tell  what  she  knew  of  others." 


1 82  Nan. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

I  CAN  hardly  describe  Kan's  state  of  mind  as  Christmas 
drew  near.  Bromfield  began  early  to  show  signs  of  the  ap« 
preaching  festivity ;  and  as  Nan  walked  about  the  snowy 
streets — often  just  for  the  sake  of  turning  her  mind  from 
sad  thoughts — the  gayety  of  the  shop-windows,  the  blithe 
air  of  the  passers-by,  all  jarred  upon  her  painfully. 

Mrs.  Rupert  had  begun  to  treat  her  niece  very  coldly. 
More  and  more  was  she  certain  that  Nan's  "  folks  "  at  Bev- 
erley  meant  gradually  to  cast  her  off,  so  she  insisted  on 
Nan's  making  herself  useful  in  every  way ;  and  the  child 
rose  early  and  worked  late  in  order  to  accomplish  all  tha*:- 
was  required  of  her.  But  occupation,  she  knew,  was  belt;  ? 
than  sitting  idle  with  her  thoughts ;  only  sometimes  Nan*.; 
head  ached  painfully  over  her  sums,  and  often  kind-hearted 
Mrs.  Leigh  had  to  excuse  her  from  her  lessons  entirely. 

The  Ruperts  began  to  feel  the  effect  of  Nan's  efforts  at 
tidiness  in  the  house.  She  had  rummaged  out  some  bits 
of  curtaining — old  muslin — but  when  washed  and  starched 
it  looked  very  well ;  and,  by  dint  of  close  saving,  she  had 


Nan.  1 83 

contrived  to  have  the  furniture  mended,  a  new  cover  put  on 
the  mantel-board,  and  chintz  slips  on  the  easy-chairs.  Mrs. 
.Rupert  was  willing  enough  to  accept  Nan's  labors  so  long 
as  they  did  not  interfere  with  what  she  needed  her  to  do ; 
and  Marian  seemed  better  pleased  to  bring  her  young  friends 
home  with  her,  now  that  the  sitting-room  had  an  air  of  clean- 
liness and  something  like  comfort. 

It  was  the  twentieth  of  December;  Nan  was  sitting  in 
the  parlor  late  in  the  afternoon,  with  Georgie  and  Mary  be- 
side her,  and  a  big  pile  of  stockings  waiting  to  be  darned  in 
the  basket  at  her  side.  She  was  trying  to  work,  but  some- 
how her  thoughts  kept  wandering  away  to  Beverley.  She 
could  just  imagine  how  delightfully  they  were  preparing 
for  Christmas.  There  would  be  genuine  "  fun  "  at  College 
Street,  and  she  felt  sure  that  Aunt  Letty  would  provide 
presents  for  Love  and  Mrs.  Travers  and  little  David.  At 
thought  of  these  Nan  fairly  broke  down ;  her  tears  were 
falling  on  the  stockings,  when  Georgie  cried  out, 

"  Hi  I  there's  a  hack  before  the  door !  Who's  that,  Nan  ?" 
Nan  hastily  dried  her  eyes  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 
It  was  a  hack.  Could  it  be  Mrs.  Ileriot  who  descended  ? 
Nan's  very  heart  stood  still.  She  sprang  up,  holding  her 
work  in  her  hands  as  in  a  vise.  Mary  and  Georgie  fled  away 
down-stairs  to  know  who  the  visitor  was,  and  so  Nan  was 
left  alone  in  the  little  parlor. 


184  Nan. 

Five  minutes  seemed  to  pass  before  the  door  opened,  and 
then  Mrs.  Heriot  came  hurrying  in,  and  in  a  second  Nan 
was  clasped  in  her  motherly  arms. 

"  Oh,  my  child  !  my  dearie !"  the  good  woman  exclaimed. 
"  Whatever  was  wrong  is  right  now !  and  they  can't  wait  to 
get  you  home  again  quick  enough.  Come,  haste !  get  your 
little  hat  on,  and  come." 

But  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  Kan  had  fainted 
dead  away.  When  she  opened  her  eyes,  it  was  to  see  Mrs. 
Rupert  and  Mrs.  Heriot  bending  over  her  with  a  collection 
of  horribly  smelling  restoratives ;  but  the  first  thing  she  did 
was  to  smile  from  sheer  happiness. 

"  I  think,  mem,  if  you  please,"  Mrs.  Heriot  was  saying,  in 
iciest  tones,  to  Aunt  Rupert,  "  we'll  get  her  down  to  the 
hotel,  where  her  cousin,  Miss  Phyllis  Rolf,  is  waiting  for 
her." 

Mrs.  Rupert  was  very  much  impressed,  particularly  by  the 
box  of  Christmas  presents  Mrs.  Heriot  had  brought  with 
her  for  the  entire  household ;  and  she  facilitated  Nan's  de- 
parture, saying  nothing  more  unpleasant  than  "  Well,  I  hope 
they'll  either  keep  her  or  leave  her  once  and  for  all  this 
time." 

But  Nan  was  too  dreamily  happy  to  care  for  anything 
Mrs.  Rupert  could  do  or  say  now.  Once  more  she  drove 
down  the  streets  of  Bromfield  on  her  way  to  Beverley. 


NAN  FAINTS  IN  MRS.  IJERIOT'P  ARMS. 


Nan.  185 

Everything  seemed  confused ;  but  it  was  clear  enough  that 
they  stopped  at  the  big  country  hotel  on  Main  Street,  went 
up-stairs  and  into  a  cheerful  room,  where  Phyllis  stood  wait- 
ing. How  differently  her  cousin  met  her  this  time  from 
the  first!  Then,  Phyllis  had  been  all  condescension  and 
superiority;  but  now  she  opened  her  arms,  clasped  Kan 
in  them,  and  murmured,  lovingly, 

"  Oh,  my  dear  child,  you  must  forgive  us — we  understand 
it  all,  and  never  again  shall  you  go  away." 

This  one  half -hour  would  have  seemed  joy  enough  to 
Nan  ;  but  it  was  delightful  to  have  a  cosey  tea  with  Phyllis, 
and  then,  before  they  went  to  bed,  to  hear  how  Aunt  Letty 
•\vas  ardently  expecting  her  "  home  again." 

Phyllis  did  not  ask  Nan  why  she  had  not  spoken  of  Lau- 
ra's deceit.  She  knew  well  what  had  governed  the  humbler 
cousin ;  and  Nan  was  content  to  know  the  merest  outlines 
of  what  Laura  had  done.  It  was,  indeed,  enough  that  all 
was  explained,  and  that  they  wanted  her  home  again  at 
Beverley. 

Meanwhile,  at  Eolf  House,  Aunt  Letty  was  in  a  state  of 
genuine  excitement.  Her  darling  was  coming  back,  and 
great  had  been  the  preparations  for  her  return.  To  Laura 
Miss  Rolf  had  said  very  little,  for  the  girl's  remorse  and 
penitence  were  entirely  sincere.  She  begged  so  humbly  to 
be  allowed  to  help  prepare  for  Nan's  return,  that  Miss  Rolf 


1 86  Nan. 

had  kept  her  with  her,  and  her  dear  Love  Blake  was  there 
too,  to  whom  Laura  seemed  to  cling  as  to  something  or 
somebody  who  suggested  Nan. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  dusting  and  moving  about  of 
furniture  in  a  large,  sunny  room  near  Nan's  school-room, 
and  which  had  always  been  closed  except  for  certain  elderly 
visitors.  Indeed,  Nan  had  rarely  seen  it.  Everything  was 
what  she  called  "stuffy"  in  it;  but  had  she  looked  in  on 
the  work  going  on  there  during  these  days,  she  would  have 
changed  her  mind. 

Rolf  House  once  again !  As  the  carnage  turned  up  the 
well-known  drive,  Nan  hardly  knew  whether  to  believe  she 
was  really  wide  awake ;  but  the  sight  of  the  lighted  win- 
dows, the  door,  flung  open  by  eager  hands,  was  real  enough, 
and  when  a  moment  later  she  found  herself  in  the  hall, 
clasped  close  to  her  aunt's  heart,  there  was  no  longer  possi- 
bility for  fancying  it  a  dream. 

"  We  are  glad  to  have  you  home  again,  my  dear,"  was  all 
that  Aunt  Letty  said,  but  Nan  looked  up  at  her  with  satis- 
fied eyes.  She  could  afford  in  her  happiness  to  turn  to 
Laura,  who  was  hanging  back,  with  a  very  sweet  word  of 
greeting. 

Between  Miss  Eolf  and  Laura  a  look  was  exchanged,  and 
then  the  former  said  : 

"  Nan,  Laura  has  been  very  busy  helping  us  prepare  a 


Nan.  187 

room  for  you.  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  go  up  with  her 
and  see  it." 

Again  caine  Nan's  smile.  It  was  a  tearful  little  smile, 
and  she  could  not  trust  herself  to  talk,  but  she  slipped  one 
hand  into  Laura's,  and  the  two  cousins  went  up-stairs. 

Down  past  the  old  school-room  Laura  led  her,  and  then 
opened  the  door  of  the  room  prepared  for  Nan's  new  wel- 
come. 

Nan  could  only  stand  still  and  gaze  about  her  with  de- 
light. All  the  old  furniture  and  hangings  had  been  re- 
moved ;  instead  were  light,  soft  chintzes,  cheerful  pictures, 
furniture  suited  for  comfort  and  use,  a  book-rack  full  of 
nice  volumes,  a  standing  work-basket  with  everything  ready 
for  use,  and,  finally,  a  little  secretary  with  Nan's  account- 
books  on  it,  and  all  sorts  of  pretty  stationery. 

While  Nan  was  gazing  with  delight  and  wonder  upon  all 
these  treasures,  Laura  stole  near  her  cousin,  and  said  timidly  : 

"Nan,  will  you  look  at  the  dressing-table?  I  worked 
you  those  things." 

And  Nan  looked,  and  saw  a  pretty  set  of  muslin  and  blue 
silk  articles,  each  worked  with  her  name,  and  over  the  table 
was  the  one  religious  suggestion  of  the  room.  This  was  a 
framed  text,  as  follows : 

"  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,  as  we  forgive  those  who  tres- 
pass against  us" 


1 88  Nan. 

It  was  Miss  Kolf  who  had  asked  Laura  to  buy  this  for 
Nan. 

Laura's  eyes  were  still  very  tearful  when  Nan,  after  joy- 
fully looking  at  everything,  turned  again  to  her. 

"  Lollie,"  she  said,  "  I  do — let  us  both  do  it — always !" 

And  so  Nan  felt  she  had,  indeed,  come  "  home  again." 

Laura  did  not  remain  at  Rolf  House  for  supper.    Miss 

Rolf  and  Nan  took  it  together,  and  pleasantly  discussed 

Christmas,  and  what  Nan  would  like  to  do  on  that  day. 

And  afterwards,  in  the  dear,  familiar  black -walnut  room, 

aunt  and  niece  sat  together  until  ten  o'clock,  and  Miss  Rolf 

told  Nan  how  her  feeling  that  she  was  not  upright  had 

grieved  her,  and  how  she  rejoiced  that  she  could  claim  her 

again  without  stain  of  such  sin. 

Wisely  enough,  Miss  Rolf  did  not  make  a  heroine  or  a 
martyr  of  Nan,  for  she  felt  that  the  child  had  not  used  good 
judgment  in  her  reticence,  but  she  made  her  keenly  see  how 
she  regretted  all  injustice  done  to  her,  and  certainly  nothing 
could  have  exceeded  Miss  Rolf's  tenderness  to  her  niece.  It 
seemed  as  if  she  had  closed  the  door  on  the  warm  place  in 
her  heart  to  open  it  again  only  for  little  Nan. 


Nan.  189 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE  next  few  days  passed  like  some  happy  dream  in 
Nan's  life.  All  the  joyousness  and  tenderness  of  the 
Christmas  season  seemed  in  the  very  air  she  breathed,  and 
hours  of  every  day  were  devoted  to  preparations  for  the 
great  festival.  Miss  Rolf  had  determined  to  make  this  an 
important  occasion.  She  issued  invitations  for  a  large  party 
in  Nan's  honor;  and  she  intended  to  impress  upon  every 
one  the  fact  that  her  niece  was  henceforth  to  be  considered 
her  adopted  daughter — the  young  mistress  of  Rolf  House. 
Nan  went  about  with  a  happy  light  shining  in  her  eyes,  but 
her  aunt,  who  watched  her  critically,  could  not  see  that  the 
sudden  change  in  her  circumstances  had  made  her  over-ex- 
ultant. She  seemed  chiefly  delighted  by  the  fact  of  again 
being  "at  home" — near  to  the  Rolfs,  first  and  last;  able 
again  to  plan  for  Mrs.  Travers  and  David ;  to  have  chats 
with  Love  Blake,  and  to  know  that  the  approaching  Christ- 
mas would  bring  a  "good  time"  for  her  friends,  both  rich 
and  humble. 

Her  new  room  was  a  source  of  the  greatest  delight  to 


1 90  Nan. 

her,  and  she  never  tired  of  sitting  in  the  pretty  easy-chairs, 
reading  the  books,  or  admiring  and  using  the  contents  of 
her  desk  and  work-table.  And  in  these  days  it  came  about 
that  Laura  spent  most  of  her  time  on  the  large  chintz-cov- 
ered lounge,  drawn  up  at  one  side  of  the  wood  fire;  for 
Laura's  malady  was  increasing  so  fast  that  they  all  feared  it 
must  settle  into  a  hopeless  spinal  complaint.  There  was  noth- 
ing dangerous  in  it,  but  it  might  be  that  for  some  time  she 
would  be  a  prisoner,  and  Aunt  Letty,  Phyllis,  and  Kan  all 
decided  that  it  was  best  to  say  very  little  of  her  wrong- 
doing to  her.  In  the  long  quiet  hours  of  her  suffering  and 
weakness  she  was  learning  more  than  she  could  have  done 
in  years  of  health  and  vigor;  and,  more  than  any  one  but 
Nan  could  have  believed  possible,  was  she  suffering  from 
honest  shame  and  penitence.  Nan  and  Joan  would  bring 
their  Christmas  work  to  this  bright  fireside,  while  Laura 
lay  still,  enjoying  their  gay  talk,  and  for  the  first  time  learn- 
ing to  understand  the  sweetness  and  generosity  of  Nan's 
nature.  The  younger  girls  asked  her  opinion  about  every- 
thing, except  some  very  privately  executed  articles  which 
were  intended  as  surprises  for  Laura's  own  Christmas. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Heriot,  on  the  morning  of  the 
23d — "  I  suppose  we'll  have  to  prepare  for  a  hundred  people 
at  least.  Dear,  dear !  it's  a  long  time  since  we've  had  such 
doings.  And  just  think :  first  the  Christmas  tree — and  then 


Nan.  191 

the  party — and  then  dinner  the  next  day — and — well — I 
don't  know  how  we  are  to  get  through  it  all  1" 

Nan  laughed  gayly.  She  and  Joan  were  in  the  store- 
room tying  up  greens,  while  Mrs.  Heriot  was  making  out  a 
list  to  be  sent  to  the  grocer's  and  confectioner's. 

"  I  know"  said  Nan ;  "  we'll  get  through  with  it  perfectly 
beautifully.  We'll  all  be  so  happy — and  I  hope,"  she  added, 
half  sighing,  "  we'll  all  see  fifty  more  such  Christmases." 

"  Just  hear  the  child !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Heriot.  "  Oh,  I 
quite  forgot,  my  dear ;  Miss  Kolf  wants  you  for  a  moment 
up-stairs." 

Nan  darted  up  willingly  enough,  and  found  Miss  Kolf  in 
her  own  room,  looking  very  pleased,  and  with  the  kindly 
smile  Nan  loved  to  see  in  her  eyes  and  on  her  lips. 

"  See  here,  Nannie,"  she  said,  drawing  her  niece  towards 
her,  "  I'm  going  to  tell  you  something.  It  was  I  who  had 
your  Cousin  Philip  sent  to  school." 

"  Oh !"  gasped  Nan — and  then  she  gave  Miss  Kolf  rather 
an  alarming  squeeze — "  Oh,  Aunt  Letty  /" 

"  I  had  it  done  through  Mr.  Field  so  that  he  might  not, 
later  in  life,  feel  under  any  special  obligations  to  us.  And 
now  I  want  to  speak  of  your  Cousin  Marian.  Of  course 
they  are  not  really  any  kin  to  you ;  but,  after  all,  they  gave 
you  as  much  as  they  could  when  you  were  homeless,  and  I 

should  like  to  do  well  by  them." 

15 


1 92  Nan. 

A  strange  little  wondering  look  had  come  into  Nan's  face. 
"  Aunt  Letty,"  she  said,  suddenly,  "  will  you  tell  me  one 
thing  truly?  What  had  papa  done  that  his  grandfather 
should  have  cast  him  off  ?" 

Miss  Kolf  looked  pained.  "  My  dear,"  she  said,  slowly, 
"  he  did  not  act  openly  with  my  father ;  he  had  debts  which 
he  tried  to  hide ;  he  was  never  quite  frank  about  anything ; 
and  so,  at  last,  it  came  to  an  open  quarrel.  Nan,  dear,  you 
see  that  was  what  frightened  me  when  I  thought — you  un- 
derstand, my  darling  " — the  old  lady  clasped  Nan  closely  to 
her  side — "I  thought  I  could  not  live  over  again  scenes 
such  as  we  used  to  have  with  him — bright,  lovable  boy  that 
he  was — and  that  before  I  learned  to  love  you  too  dearly  I 
would  send  you  away." 

Nan  was  very  silent  for  a  moment.  Her  father  was  a 
dim  memory  to  her,  yet  she  could  vaguely  recall  scenes 
which  she  now  understood  better;  times  when  debt  seem- 
ed to  be  her  mother's  horror,  and  when  her  father,  reck- 
lessly extravagant,  would  leave  them  alone  and  often 
hungry. 

"It  shall  never  fie,  Aunt  Letty"  Nan  said,  firmly.  And 
Miss  Rolf  understood  her,  and  believed  her  child  with  all 
her  heart. 

"  And  about  Marian,"  said  Aunt  Letty.  "  I  thought  of 
suggesting  that  if  she  liked  to  go  for  three  years  to  a  good 


Nan.  193 

school  I  would  pay  the  expenses — I  mean  aU,  her  expenses 
— what  do  you  think  ?" 

Nan's  whole  face  brightened.  "  Oh,  Aunt  Letty !"  she 
exclaimed, "  how  like  you  !  Then  we  could  see  for  ourselves 
just  what  a  fair  chance  would  do  for  her." 

"  And  what  do  you  say,"  continued  Miss  Rolf,  smiling, 
"to  asking  her  here  for  Christmas?  I  can  make  up  my 
mind  better  then." 

"  That  would  be — kind,  I  suppose,"  said  Nan,  a  little  du- 
biously ;  but  in  a  moment  she  was  ashamed  of  her  own  hesi- 
tation, and  gave  a  heartier  assent. 

"  Do  you  know,  aunt,"  she  said,  "  that  nice,  quiet  Mrs. 
Leigh,  who  taught  me  at  Bromfield,  wants  to  open  a  school 
in  Exeter,  and  Mrs.  Grange  and  some  other  people  are  get- 
ting pupils  for  her.  Now,  she  knows  Marian  so  well,  why 
wouldn't  that  be  a  good  beginning?" 

"  Yery  good,"  said  Miss  Rolf,  after  a  moment's  thought ; 
"  I  might  write  to  Mrs.  Leigh  about  it.  Now,  run  away,  my 
darling.  I  hope  you  and  Joan  are  not  working  your  fingers 
actually  to  the  bone." 

Nan  laughed,  and  darted  off  to  tell  Joan  the  last  piece  of 
news.  And  before  the  next  morning  an  answer  had  come, 
accepting  Miss  Rolf's  invitation  for  Marian. 

Nan  could  imagine  the  satisfaction  with  which  Marian 
told  her  companions  of  her  great  good  luck,  but  she  hoped 


1 94  Nan. 

she  would  be  moderate  in  her  display  of  bugles  and  bangles 
at  the  Christmas  party. 

But  Miss  Kolf's  thoughtfulness  had  gone  further  even 
than  Nan's.  Marian  was  expected  about  two  o'clock  on 
Christmas  eve,  and  in  the  morning  two  boxes  arrived  from 
Ames's,  the  contents  of  which  only  Nan  and  Miss  Rolf 
knew.  One  of  these  contained  a  pretty,  ready-made,  dark 
silk,  which  would,  Nan  thought,  fit  tolerably  well,  and  might 
in  any  case  be  altered;  and  the  other  a  perfectly  simple, 
pale -blue  cashmere,  so  ladylike  and  elegant,  however,  that 
Nan  felt  Marian  would  appear  another  being  when  dressed 
in  it.  These  articles  were  hung  up  in  the  wardrobe  of  the 
little  room  near  Nan's,  which  had  been  prepared  for  Marian's 
reception. 


Nan. 


CHAPTEK  XXXII. 

"  THEEE  !"  exclaimed  Phyllis,  triumphantly,  from  her 
place  on  a  ladder  in  the  hall  at  Kolf  House.  "  There !  the 
last  bit  of  evergreen,  thank  goodness!  and  how  does  it 
look  ?" 

The  chorus  of  voices,  young  and  old,  from  below  declared 
it  was  a  perfect  success.  And  so  it  was.  The  fine  old  hall 
seemed  to  bloom  with  the  freshness  of  evergreens  and 
flowers,  and  at  one  end  the  huge  tree  was  standing  behind 
a  screen,  to  be  removed  at  the  fitting  moment  after  tea. 
Half  a  dozen  of  the  invited  guests  had  arrived — those  who 
were  to  remain  over  Christmas  -  day  —  and  Nan  was  now 
anxiously  waiting  Marian's  appearance. 

The  door-bell  gave  a  quick  peal,  and  Nan  turned  around, 
her  heart  beating  from  a  mixture  of  feelings  about  seeing 
Marian.  A  gust  of  wind,  a  little  drift  of  snow,  and  then 
Marian's  figure  appeared. 

Every  one  was  very  quiet  while  Miss  Rolf,  with  her  usual 
courtesy,  went  forward  and  said, "  How  do  you  do,  my  dear?" 
and  the  old  lady's  beautiful  hand  was  extended  and 


1 96  Nan. 

rather  boisterously  by  Marian.  She  had  come  here  fully  de- 
termined not  to  be  "  patronized  "  or  "  snubbed ;"  so,  although 
everything  she  saw  in  that  first  glance  was  rather  awe- 
inspiring,  she  said,  with  her  jauntiest  air, 

"  Well,  yes,  here  I  am,  alive  at  least.  How  do  you  do, 
Nan  ?  Putting  up  greens,  are  you  ?" 

And  the  girl  glanced  confidently  about  her,  staring  at 
Phyllis  on  the  ladder,  at  Joan  and  the  boys  congregated  by 
the  fireplace,  and  at  Mrs.  Heriot  and  old  Eobert,  who  were 
helping  carefully  here  and  there ;  finally  her  free  gaze  came 
back  to  Miss  Rolf,  and  there  something  in  the  old  lady's 
tranquil  face  and  figure,  with  its  air  of  absolute  though  un- 
conscious dignity  and  good -breeding,  seemed  to  check  her 
loud  voice  and  independent  manner.  She  stood  very  still. 

"  Will  you  go  up-stairs,  my  dear,  with  Nan  ?"  said  Miss 
Rolf's  finely  modulated  voice  again. 

"  Oh,  yes,  'm — thank  you,  'm."  And  Marian  crossed  the 
hall  with  Nan  and  went  up  the  wide,  curving  staircase,  look- 
ing down  once  in  a  while  at  the  pleasantly  active  group 
below,  and  enjoying  the  sense  of  luxury  and  space  and 
order  about  her,  which  seemed  mingled  with  the  delicious 
scent  of  the  greens. 

The  two  girls  had  to  pass  through  Nan's  room,  and  here 
Marian  would  have  liked  to  stop  and  examine  all  the  dainty 
furnishings  and  ornaments  within  it;  but  the  sight  of  Laura 


Nan. 


197 


sleeping  on  the  sofa  made  Nan  hurry  her  cousin  on,  and 
into  the  comfortable  little  room  assigned  to  her. 

How  to  give  her  the  dresses  she  hardly  knew ;  but  while 
Marian  was  busy  at  the  mirror,  taking  off  her  hat  and  pull- 
ing down  her  "  bangs,"  Nan  said,  rather  timidly, 

"Marian,  we  thought — aunt  and  I — that  perhaps  you'd 
have  no  time  to  prepare  a  party  dress — and  aunt  bought 
these — if  you  like  them." 

Nan  swung  open  the  wardrobe  door,  and  Marian  turned 
around  with  an  exclamation  of  delight.  She  felt  no  hesita- 
tion about  the  gift.  Her  eyes  danced  as  she  exclaimed, 

"  Well,  I  never  /"  and  she  was  not  ten  minutes  in  getting 
her  dress  off,  and  flying  into  first  one  and  then  the  other  of 
the  two  pretty  dresses.  And  it  certainly  was  a  comfort  to 
see  how  much  their  simplicity  improved  her  whole  appear- 
ance. 

Nan  left  Marian  with  Laura  when  the  latter  awoke,  and 
went  back  to  help  with  the  Christmas  preparations.  Alto- 
gether, it  was  an  enchanting  afternoon.  The  Blakes  and 
Traverses  arrived  early  and  were  all  comfortably  ensconced 
in  the  black-walnut  parlor,  where  Mrs.  Heriot  had  a  most 
sumptuous  supper  prepared  for  them.  Little  David  having 
owned  to  a  weakness  for  plum  roll,  there  was  enough  there 
to  satisfy  a  dozen  of  him ;  and  Nan  flitted  in  and  out  once 
or  twice  to  make  sure  that  her  protdg6ea  had  everything 


1 98  Nan. 

they  needed  for  perfect .  happiness  and  comfort.  She  de- 
clared afterwards  that  it  was  equal  to  any  picture  to  see 
that  table  —  Mrs.  Heriot  at  the  head.  Love  at  the  foot, 
and  Mrs.  Travers  and  David  on  either  side,  and  between 
them  all  such  a  sparkling  array  of  china  and  glass  and  silver 
as  Robert  was  putting  on  the  long  table  in  the  dining-room. 

The  supper-party  in  there  was,  to  Nan,  rather  a  formida- 
ble one,  since  there  were  present  various  new  relations — an 
elderly  cousin,  Jane  Marsh,  and  her  two  quiet  daughters ;  a 
tall  boy  cousin,  who  teased  her  all  the  time,  named  Yal 
Paton  ;  and  Mrs.  Grange  from  Bromfield,  and  Dr.  Rogers, 
whose  eyes  kept  twinkling  at  Nan;  and  all  the  College 
Street  Rolfs;  and  the  minister,  Mr.  Harmen,  and  his  deli- 
cate young  daughter. 

Just  before  supper  Laura  had  been  declared  unable  to 
come  down,  so  Nan  contrived  an  excuse  and  slipped  away 
up-stairs  with  a  plate  of  very  nice  good  things  for  her  cousin. 

She  sat  on  the  low  bench  by  the  fire,  while  Laura  slowly 
ate  the  cake  and  sweetmeats,  so  long  that  Laura  finally  ex- 
claimed, 

"There,  Nan,  it  is  half -past  seven;  you  must  go  and 
dress." 

And  Nan  jumped  up,  and  ran  down-stairs  to  find  Marian^ 
That  young  person  was  engaged  in  a  very  animated  con- 
versation with  Yal  Paton,  and  she  looked  as  if  she  were 


Nan. 


199 


enjoying  herself  thoroughly.  It  was  a  new  excitement, 
however,  to  go  up-stairs  and  dress  for  the  party.  Nan 
stayed  with  her  to  give  her  any  help  needed,  and  when  the 
last  touches  were  put  she  could  not  but  admit  that  Marian 
looked  very  well,  and  very  much  a  "little  lady."  "And 
school,"  thought  Nan,  "  will  do  the  rest  to  her  manners" 

Nan's  own  toilet  was  speedily  made.  It  was  only  a 
simple  white  mull  with  blue  ribbons;  but  Mrs.  Heriot 
stopped  her  in  the  corridor  to  make  sure  everything  about 
"  her  bairn  "  was  right. 

I  cannot  describe  all  the  delights  and  wonders  of  that 
Christmas  party.  First  came  the  tree,  when  every  one, 
servants  and  all,  were  gathered  about,  and  Nan  distributed 
the  gifts.  Of  course  all  proved  satisfactory,  from  the  joint 
offering  of  the  Rolfs — Nan  included — to  Aunt  Letty,  of  a 
dainty  blue-and-white  tea-service,  to  little  David's  enormous 
army  of  tin  soldiers,  cannon,  forts,  and  all  warlike  parapher- 
nalia. There  were  not  wanting  useful  presents  as  well — 
Marian  had  a  set  of  furs,  and  Love  Blake  a  fine  winter 
jacket.  As  for  Nan  herself,  she  had  what  she  prized  most, 
an  exquisite  gold  watch,  with  Aunt  Letty 's  portrait  on  the  in- 
side. And  then  Phyllis's  gift  had  a  peculiar  meaning.  Nan 
had  said  to  Aunt  Letty,  when  the  presents  were  talkril 
over:  "Aunt,  I  do  want  Phyllis  to  have  something  beauti- 
ful ;"  so  together  they  had  chosen  a  pearl  necklace — just  a 


2oo  Nan. 

string  of  beautiful  pearls,  from  which  fell  little,  fine-pointed, 
glittering  gold  drops. 

Phyllis  was  standing  near  the  tree,  looking  very  beau- 
tiful in  her  white  lace  dress,  when  Nan  clasped  the  neck- 
lace about  her  slender  white  throat,  and  she  did  not  see 
the  tears  that  came  into  her  cousin's  eyes.  Phyllis  wafl 
thinking  of  how  grandly  she  had  expected  to  mould  Nan 
to  something  worthy  of  her  new  position — and  was  it  not 
from  little  Nan  she  had  learned  her  deepest,  purest  lessons? 

Of  course  the  party  was  a  success.  By  nine  o'clock  the 
rooms  were  all  filled  with  a  gay,  laughing  company,  and  the 
younger  ones  best  enjoyed  keeping  by  themselves.  The 
band  was  stationed  in  the  hall,  and  the  young  people  danced 
in  the  walnut  parlor,  the  utmost  good  cheer  prevailing. 
Once  in  a  while  Nan  ran  up  to  report  progress  below  to 
Laura,  who  had  her  presents  on  her  sofa,  and  seemed  to  en- 
joy things  from  the  distance. 

It  was  midnight  when  all  but  th3  home  party  had  dis- 
persed. Nan  had  kept  wishing  Lance  had  been  there, 
and  Phyllis  said,  as  they  all  gathered  about  the  hall -fire, 
that  she  meant  to  write  to  him  that  very  night.  Marian 
looked  as  if  she  began  to  see  something  in  life  better  than 
the  attempt  to  be  the  most  "stylish"  of  Mrs.  Delille's 
"young  ladies;"  and  Joan  could  only  "hold  on"  to  Nan, 
as  she  expressed  it,  declaring  she  was  too  happy  to  live ! 


"NAN  CLASPED  THE  NECKLACE  ABOUT  HER  SLENDER  WHITE  THROAT." 


Nan.  201 

So  with  all  these  contented  sentiments  the  party  sepa- 
rated for  their  various  rooms.  Just  before  they  went  to 
bed  Marian  said  to  Nan,  with  a  little,  half-mortified  laugh, 

"  See  here — Nan,  I  don't  think  yon  a  bit  stuck-up,  as  I 
thought  you'd  be,  and  I  think  it  was  awfully  good  of  Miss 
Rolf  to  ask  me." 

Little  as  it  was,  it  pleased  Nan  greatly,  and  made  her 
hopeful  for  the  future. 

Every  one  was  in  bed  and,  it  might  have  been  thought, 
asleep,  but  Nan  felt  wide  awake,  after  the  many  excite- 
ments of  the  day. 

It  was  a  glorious  night :  although  the  ground  was  white 
with  a  covering  of  snow,  the  moon  silvered  everything,  and 
Nan  knelt  in  the  window  of  her  new  room  looking  out  with 
grateful  eyes  upon  the  place  she  now  felt  to  be  really  home. 
She  was  thinking  of  so  many  things  that  she  scarcely  heard 
any  sound  within,  until  Phyllis's  step  sounded  just  at  her 
side,  and  there  was  her  oldest  cousin  in  her  dressing-wrapper, 
and  Nan  welcomed  her  with  a  quickly  outstretched  hand. 

Phyllis  sat  down  by  Nan  in  silence  for  a  moment ;  then 
she  said,  very  softly,  "  Nan,  will  you  always  help  Laura — 
and  Joan — and  all  of  us  ?" 

"  Of  course,"  whispered  Nan ;  "  all  I  know  how." 

The  two  cousins  remained  silent  a  little  while  longer,  and 
then  Nan  said,  looking  out  at  the  quiet  snow  in  the  moonlight, 


Nan. 

"  What  were  the  words  of  that  old  Christmas  hymn, 

Phyllis?— 

'And  unto  us  a  Child  was  born, 

Whose  mark  of  sorrow  must  be  worn.' 

Phyllis,"  she  added,  "  do  you  suppose  we  must  all  have 
sorrow  ?" 

"  Sometimes,"  said  Phyllis.  "  But,  Nan,  dear,  I  think  it 
is  going  to  be  your  path  in  life  to  help  other  people's 
sorrows." 

"  If  I  can  be  good  enough — and  wise  enough,"  answered 
Nan. 

And  then  in  a  moment  Phyllis  kissed  her  good-night  and 
went  away,  after  a  glance  at  Laura,  sleeping  in  Nan's  bed. 

How  many  changes  had  come,  thought  Phyllis,  since 
with  all  pride  and  curiosity  she  had  gone  to  Mrs.  Ru- 
pert's for  Nan !  Not  one  could  have  defined  the  child's 
power  among  them ;  but  I  think  that  somewhere  beyond 
the  quiet  starlit  sky,  at  which  Nan  was  gazing  that  Christ- 
mas morning,  One  knew — the  gift  of  sweetness  and  truth 
given  to  her  had  not  been  wasted. 

And  so  we  will  leave  her,  hoping,  if  we  meet  her  again, 
it  will  be  seen  that  Miss  Rolf's  trust  was  not  an  idle  one. 

THE   END. 


INTERESTING  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


8y  HARPER  &  BROTHRBS  will  send  their  publications  by  mail,  pottage  prepaid, 
to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mtxico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 

THE  WONDER  CLOCK ;  or,  Four-and-Twenty  Marvellous  Tales :  Being 
One  for  each  Hour  of  the  Day.  Written  and  Illustrated  with  160  Draw- 
ings  by  HOWARD  PYLE.  Embellished  with  Verses  by  KATHARINE  Prue 
Large  8vo,  Ornamental  Cloth,  $3  00. 

PEPPER  AND  SALT ;  or,  Seasoning  for  Young  Folks.  Prepared  and 
Profusely  Illustrated  by  HOWARD  PYLK.  4to,  Illuminated  Cloth,  $2  00. 

THOMAS  W.  KNOX'S  WORKS.     8vo,  Cloth.     Profusely  Illustrated. 
THE  BOY  TRAVELLERS  IN  MEXICO.     $3  00. 
THE  BOY  TRAVELLERS  IN  AUSTRALASIA.     $3  00. 
THE  BOY  TRAVELLERS  ON  THE  CONGO.    Adventures  of  Two  Youths  in  a 

Journey  with  Henry  M.  Stanley  "Through  the  Dark  Continent"    $3  00. 
THE  BOY  TRAVELLERS  IN  THE  RUSSIAN  EMPIRE.     $3  00. 
THE  BOY  TRAVELLERS  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA.     A  Journey  through  Ecuador, 
Peru,  Bolivia,  Brazil,  Paraguay,  Argentine  Republic,  and  Chili.     With  Descrip- 
tions of  Voyages  upon  the  Amazon  and  1-a  Plata  Rivers.     $3  00. 
THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  "VIVIAN,"  to  the  North  Pole  and  Beyond.    Adventure* 

of  Two  Youths  in  the  Open  Polar  Sea.    $2  50. 

THE  BOY  TRAVELLERS  IN  THE  FAR  EAST.     Five  Parts.     $3  00  each.     The 
Five  Parts  in  a  Box,  $15  00. 
PART  I.  JAPAN  AND  CHINA. 

PART  II.  SIAM  AND  JAVA.    With  Descriptions  of  Cochin  China,  Cambodia, 
Sumatra,  and  the  Malay  Archipelago. 

PART  III.  CEYLON  AND  INDIA.     With  Descriptions  of  Borneo,  the  Phill- 
pine  Islands,  and  Burmah. 
PART  IV.  EGYPT  AND  THE  HOLY  LAND. 
PART  V.  JOURNEY  THROUGH  AFRICA. 

HUNTING  ADVENTURES  ON  LAND  AND  SEA.    Two  Part*.     $2  60  each. 
PART  I.  THE  YOUNG  NIMRODS  IN  NORTH  AMERICA. 
PART  II.  THE  YOUNG  NIMRODS  AROUND  THE  WORLD. 

CHARLES  CARLETON  COFFIN'S  WORKS.  Seven  Volumes.  Copiously 
Illustrated.  Square  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00  each. 

THE  STORY  OF  LIBERTY.  THE  BOYS  OK  'Tfi. 

OLD  TIMES  IN  THE  COLONIES.  HI  ILIUM!  THK  NATION 

DRUM  BEAT  OF  TDK  VATION.  M  \<:<-HING  TO  VICTORY 

REDEEMING  THE  REPUBLIC 


Interesting  Books  for  Young  People. 


INDIAN  HISTORY  FOR  YOUNG  FOLKS.  By  FRANCIS  S.  DRAKE.  Co- 
piously Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

HARPER'S  YOUNG  PEOPLE.  Volumes  X.  (1889)  and  VIII.  (1887), 
4to,  Cloth,  $3  50  each.  (Volumes  I.,  VII.,  and  IX.  out  of  print.)  Each 
Volume  contains  the  Numbers  for  a  year,  and  is  Profusely  Illustrated. 

HARPER'S  YOUNG  PEOPLE  SERIES.  Ill'd.   16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00  per  vol. 

THE  FOUR  MACNICOLS.    By  William  Black. 

THE  TALKING  LEAVES:  An  Indian  Story. — 
Two  ARROWS:  A  Story  of  Red  and  White. 
— THE  RED  MUSTANG.  By  W.  0.  Stoddard. 

THE  ICE  QUEEN.     By  Ernest  Ingersoll. 

THE  LOST  CITY;  OR,  THE  BOY  EXPLORERS 
IN  CENTRAL  ASIA. — INTO  UNKNOWN  SEAS. 
By  David  Ker. 

PRINCE  LAZYBONES,  AND  OTHER  STORIES. 
By  Mrs.  J  W.  Hays. 

STRANGE  STORIES  FROM  HISTORY  FOR  YOUNG 
PEOPLE.  By  G.  Cary  Eggleston. 

WAKULLA  :  A  Story  of  Adventure  in  Flor- 
ida.—  THE  FLAMINGO  FEATHER.— DER- 
RICK STERLING. — CHRYSTAL,  JACK  &  Co., 
AND  DELTA  BixBY.—DORYMATES.  ByC. 
K.  Munroe. 

UNCLE  PETER'S  TRUST.     By  Geo.  B.  Perry, 

CAPTAIN  POLLY.     By  Sophie  Swett. 


TOBY  TYLER;  OR,  TEN  WEEKS  WITH  A  CIR- 
CUS.— MR.  STUBBS'S  BROTHER  (Sequel  to 
"  Toby  Tyler  ").  — TIM  AND  TIP. — RAISING 
THE  " PEARL. "—LEFT  BEHIND;  OR,  TEN 
DAYS  A  NEWSBOY. — SILENT  PETE.  By 
James  Otis. 

THE  MORAL  PIRATES.  —THE  CRUISE  OF  THE 
"GHOST." — THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  CANOE 
CLUB.  —  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  JIMMY 
BROWN. — A  NEW  ROBINSON  CRUSOE.  By 
W.  L.  Alden. 

MILDRED'S  BARGAIN,  AND  OTHER  STORIES. 
— NAN.— ROLF  HOUSE. — Jo's  OPPORTU- 
NITY.— THE  STORY  OF  Music  AND  MUSI- 
CIANS.— THE  COLONEL'S  MONEY. — THE 
HOUSEHOLD  OF  GLEN  HOLLY.  By  Lucy 
C.  Lillie. 

WHO  WAS  PAUL  GRAYSON  ?  By  John  Hab- 
berton. 

DIDDIE,  DUMPS,  AND  TOT;  OR,  PLANTATION  CHILD-LIFE.      By 

LOUISE  CLARKE-PYRNELLE.     Illustrated.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 
NEW  GAMES  FOR  PARLOR  AND  LAWN.     By  G.  B.  BARTLETT.     16mo, 

Cloth,  $1  00. 
FROM  THE  FORECASTLE  TO  THE  CABIN.      By  Capt.  S.  SAMUELS. 

Illustrated.     12mo,  Extra,  Cloth,  $1  50. 
POLITICS  FOR  YOUNG  AMERICANS.     By  CHARLES  NORDHOFF.     12mo, 

Half  Leather,  75  cents ;  Paper,  40  cents. 
GOD  AND  THE  FUTURE  LIFE.     The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity. 

By  CHARLES  NORDHOFF.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 
ANIMAL  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA  AND  ON  THE  LAND.     A  Zoology  for 

Young  People.    By  SARAH  COOPER.    Profusely  Ill'd.    12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 


.- 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


fl  pR  07  1997 


'33382 


